Down the Rabbit Hole
by LokiDoodles
Summary: (Under re-write again) My name is Alice Carroll; I was nurse at Beacon Mental Hospital until my childhood best friend came back to drag me into hell. (Ruvik x OC) (Slow burn)
1. Prologue

**Down the Rabbit Hole**

(Ruvik x OFC)

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**A/N: Hey y'all! Well since you're here, I better explain myself. This story (is/is in the process of being) re-written. If my novice experience at writing deterred you from checking this story out before, I've been working on fixing that. Since I've started, I feel like I've progressed a great deal and am now ready to get this sucker whipped into shape!**

**This is a first-person POV fic which recounts the experiences of my OC Alice Carroll. There are also transitions between her past while in STEM and the present, just to let you know. That's about all I can say at this point. It's a slow burn, as far as romance goes, but get ready for craziness. I assure you that you won't be bored...**

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_(Prologue)_

_Sebastian,_

_I know that I'm probably the last person you want to hear from right now, but you and I both know that we need each other. After what transpired six months ago, your life is in even more danger than it was before. We've been told numerous times that we're insane, but you and I both know that we're not. _

_I hope that this reaches you in time. The only reason I'm able to send this to you is because of my confidant. I know Mobius is coming for me, and hopefully I'll make it out alive or they'll kill me quickly. I've said too much, so now I have to face the consequences of my actions. _

_Mobius will be coming for you next._

_You have questions just like I do, but my time is short and I'm afraid that I'll never find the answers; I hope that you will be the one to discover them. But there are things I know that you don't and I hope that this journal will answer a few. I've hidden it just in case a situation like this ever occurred._

_I don't know what happens next, but at least now you know that you have one person who is still on your side. We also both know that Ruvik is still out there. Where he is and what he is doing is a mystery, but he won't stay that way for long – I'm sure of it. I don't completely understand how he thinks even though I'm the only one remaining who was once close to him. He's unpredictable. But I do know if he finds you, Sebastian, he will kill you. You've outmatched him, and he won't go down without a fight._

**_So you better start running now._**

_Wishing you the best of luck,_

_Alice_


	2. It's A Long Way Down

_(Chapter 1 – It's A Long Way Down)_

After the "incident" at Beacon Mental Hospital, my therapist thought it would be best if I wrote out my experiences. Apparently, the fact that I still refuse to talk to him about it is a sign that I "have not come to terms with the matter", and this seems to concern him. He says I shouldn't bottle everything up after what I've been through with the killings in the hospital.

But can't it just be enough that I don't _want_ to talk about it? – No, not for him. Even if I could tell him everything, he wouldn't believe me. No one knows the truth about Beacon except for us unfortunate few who were there to witness it. If anything, the longer that I put it off, the more hope there is of me forgetting – and _God_ I wish I could. What I've seen, what painful memories were divulged after years of suppression will forever haunt me.

The faces of those I've watched die, and those I've killed still flash before my eyes before I fall asleep at night. And somehow, I'm supposed to be able to talk about it as if it were not the tragedy it was? And somehow I'm supposed to talk about this to him? The man won't even let me open my mouth without wanting to prescribe me some form of anxiety medication – which I refuse to take. I was a nurse; I know the side effects – heck, I used to give some of those meds to patients I worked with. I've seen what they can do when they go wrong...

But, I digress. I won't bore you with the tediousness of my day-to-day life, (though you are only an inanimate word document that I write in on my laptop.)

So, here we are now - you and I that is; my little sanctuary to completely spill my guts to. With that gruesome image in mind, I suppose I should get on with it.

As cliché as it sounds, it started out as any normal day would. Though, I suppose I should tell you what the daily job of a nurse at a scandal-ridden mental hospital consists of…

I made my rounds, checking in on patients. Basically, helping out wherever I could. Once again, not saying anything about yet another "missing" patient: Mr. Harold Fowler, a 63 year old chronic schizophrenic who loved to grab the female nurses inappropriately. Believe me, I learned my lesson the last time.

I happened to ask one day what had happened to a patient that was newly admitted: Kelli Randal, a 15 year old sufferer of split personality disorder and chronic depression. Apparently, she would become so violent that her parents had no choice but to admit her. I had been working with her quite frequently, but one day I came to her room and she was nowhere to be found. In fact, her room was vacant. When I happened to inquire Dr. Jimenez about what had happened, I was threatened with not only losing my job, but never being able to find employment again. So from that moment on, I kept my mouth shut while constantly battling with myself over seeking work at Krimson General instead.

For the most part, up until 6:45 pm, things were going fine. You could say they were even boringly normal, however that was until the ringing started. It was faint at first, like maybe the speakers from the intercom were giving feedback, which wasn't unusual considering the dated technology. I thought nothing of it and continued on with my paperwork. But the feedback grew louder, more dominant. It seeped into the mind and burrowed itself inside, scratching and clawing away until it felt like I would die from the excruciating pain. I covered my ears in a desperate attempt to muffle the noise, but to no avail. It remained constant, unrelenting despite every attempt I made to make it stop. I dropped to my knees on the floor.

Then, just like that, the noise was gone. Screams echoed down the halls. Those outside gagged as their throats were sliced. Bodies collapsed onto the floor from all directions. Blood splattered onto the walls, sprinkling onto the window that served as my only view to the slaughter. I scrambled to hide under the desk, pulling the chair in front of me to provide some sort of concealment. I watched as terrified faces dashed back and forth down the corridor to flee from whatever was causing the massacre, only to soon meet the same demise.

_God, help me_, I thought.

Tears of absolute fright welled in my eyes as I tried to stifle my crying with a shaking hand. I knew the best thing I could do was stay quiet. My heart pounded in my chest, filling my ears with the jagged beat. My breathing quickened, each inhale intensifying the sickening anxiety inside. I could only wait for the door to burst open and the murderer to find me.

_I'm going to die._

As quickly as the massacre started, it stopped. Everything was silent. The only other sound to be heard was the steady drip of blood on the tile floor. Huddled with my arms wrapped around my knees, I listened for any sign of life. In a mix of relief and terror, I was met with nothing. With hesitation, I dared to crawl out from under the desk. Shaky legs wobbled as I stood to peer out the window beside the door into the hallway.

All I could see was red; blood washed every inch of the corridor. The corpses of my coworkers were strewn here and there as if they were dolls thrown carelessly by a small child. The sight was sickening, reducing me to tears and making me heave with nausea.

Running only on pure adrenaline, I was unable to think clearly. I began hyperventilating. All I knew was that I had to get out of there. So, with the feebleness of a newborn, I opened the door to the hallway. Peeking around both sides of the doorframe, I was only surrounded with the bodies of the deceased. A sob escaped my lips; I raised a shaking hand to my mouth. With the opportunity presented, I forced myself to walk to the lobby.

I tip-toed to the main entrance, stepping over mutilated bodies and shoving wheelchairs and gurneys out of my way. Once I reached the double doors I gently pushed them open, revealing the extent of the catastrophe.

All of those once familiar faces just lay there completely lifeless, almost unrecognizable in their current state. Doctors, nurses, and patients all lay dead in their own pools of still warm crimson. Each victim expressed a look of pure horror on their faces. Some still sat upright in the cushioned chairs of the sitting area, while a couple fell limp at my passing. One corpse of a patient even held a picture book in his right hand, lifeless eyes staring at it as though still intently observing. Tables were turned over on their sides as well as one of the many faux bushes located inside the entry.

_Plink_

The steady dripping of the crimson liquid that had been sprayed onto a plant in the center of the room was the only sound to be heard.

_Plink_

I crept over bodies one at a time to make my way to the receptionist's desk phone to call 911. With each step, I landed in the sticky liquid that stained my white tennis shoes red.

_Plink_

I arrived at the desk, and gently pushed the dead receptionist's cold hand away from the phone to use it. Tears continued to fall as I mulled over what I should say. Truth be told, I don't really remember dialing the phone; however there is one distinct feature I do recall.

_Plink_

A cold hand latched onto shoulder with a tightened grip. The owner turned me around to face him; he relished in watching his victims' last expressions as he mutilated them. I remember his glowing argent eyes, intense with the fire of hatred and madness. The owner paused, studying me as recognition widened them. The needle he gripped in his right hand stopped mid-air before it could slice at my jugular.

"Alice," he whispered, tone low and ladened with surprise despite its eerily calm quality.

_Plink_

My eyes stared back, widened and betraying the utter horror I felt in his presence. No words would make themselves known after my name left his lips. I was easy prey. In my stunned state, I succumbed to whatever fate he decided for me; for all I knew, this would be the end. But little did I know that this was merely the prelude of the journey that would shake my entire life.

_Plink_

Next thing I knew, I was swimming in an ocean of darkness.


	3. Hot Detectives and Rusty Chainsaws

_Chapter 2 – Hot Detectives, Rusty Chainsaws, and Crumbling Cities_

_Visions of silver waltzed before my eyes. Sunflowers in a vivid, golden field danced in the breeze while I twirled in a white dress, red pigtails sailing behind me. The sky was a vibrant blue, cloudless on a warm, summer day. A ten year-old boy with hair so blond that it was almost white grinned back, eyes alight with joy that he rarely found in the company of others – except his sweet sister. Clad in formal attire, the scene was surreal, worthy of a artist's design. He reached an alabaster hand down towards me, palm up as he awaited for me rest my delicate one in his._

_"C'mon, Ali," he called. "It's time to go."_

_I found myself pausing as I gazed upon the boy, delight bursting within me. I couldn't help but feel a distinct amount of adoration for him. My tiny, eight year-old hand gently placed itself in his. All that mattered was that I was with him, my best friend._

_Hand in hand, we strolled in the direction of a wooden barn._

I woke up. An extremely vivid, white light greeted me, causing me to shield my eyes from the blaring intensity. Once they had adjusted, I discovered I was lying in a small, brightly lit room on hard tile. I placed my hand on the ground to support me as I propped up to look around. As I rose, I felt the sharp pain of a migraine pulse through my skull. Quickly massaging the area, I released a deep groan of extreme discontent.

With the memory of the attack, panic rose within me. I looked about the room for any sign as to my location and noticed the various hospital blinds that lined the walls. A metal desk to my right contained miscellaneous medical books and bottles of medicine. There was a medicine cabinet that held other paraphernalia to its right, and on its left was a file drawer with a small rolling table blocking the very front of it. The room itself was disgusting from decay and filth. Despite this, I knew that this was still Beacon Mental Hospital, just aged from lack of maintenance.

How long was I out?

A mechanical roar came from somewhere behind me, albeit at a distance. Not eager to find out the source of the noise, I quietly made my way to the door in front of me. I clutched the silver handle and turned, the door eerily creaked as it opened.

Off I went into the great unknown, taking feeble steps through the doorway and into the long stretch of corridor outside. Abandoned wheelchairs and gurneys were scattered about the hall; I carefully maneuvered my way around them in order to not attract any attention with unneeded noise. There at the end of the hall was my ticket to freedom – the gated elevator that would take me back to the lobby.

Bang!

I turned around and watched as the door that I had just come from burst open. A man at the very end of the hallway came limping in my direction at a fast rate, severely struggling with each labored step. He shoved the wheelchairs out of his way and rolled over the gurney, dodging an attack. I stood dumbfounded at what lumbered after him.

A behemoth of a man, if he could even be called that, completely covered head to toe in blood and other filth chased after him. In his hands, he held an equally bloody and rusty chainsaw; from this, I soon realized the origin of the roaring noise. His face was concealed by a muzzle that covered all of the lower portion of his face, exposing his beady, white eyes. He wore a dingy wife-beater that looked as if it hadn't been washed in years. Broken manacles chimed from his wrists. The spike covered dog collar around his gigantic throat gave the impression of a mad dog on the loose. Ungodly growls and bellows erupted from behind the confines of the muzzle, further adding to the image.

I repeatedly pounded into the button on the wall for the elevator door to open, cursing at its slow reaction. Once the gate slid open, I hopped inside the car. The man and the monster were nearing me at an alarmingly fast rate. "Get in!" I shouted as I ushered the injured man inside, holding the gate open.

He dived inside, landing on his side. Almost as if on cue, the gate slammed shut on its own. The chainsaw slashed into the metal bars, sparks flying in all directions as the sadist attempted to break our only barrier. I screamed and landed in close to the same position as the man that accompanied me. Finally, the elevator rose, leaving the maniac behind.

The dark-haired man proceeded to scoot himself until he was leaning against the back wall of the elevator car. Feeling a momentary rush of relief, I copied his actions. He took out a pack of cigarettes, which I eyed with interest, before finding it empty. With a groan of frustration, he crushed the pack and threw it into the wall. Both panting, we sat in silence until we reached the first floor. In those brief few seconds, I took the time to study him.

He wasn't bad looking, rather handsome even. Well, I mean, he would've looked better if he hadn't been covered in sweat and blood. Not to mention the fact that he looked about my age. His jet black hair was slicked back yet tousled from the run-in he had with the chainsaw-wielding lunatic, but still somehow managed to stay somewhat neat. He had a manly, gritty stubble that further added to his rugged masculinity. His eyes were a deep shade of amber that made his gaze seem imperious and penetrating, aloof even, yet were spellbinding me with every glance in my direction.

His sharp cheekbones complimented his flinty, angular jaw. He had an air of dominance and debonaire. He sported a well-worn, yet stylish getup: a sleek black vest that hugged his muscular physique, a ¾ sleeve shirt that tightened at the muscles of his biceps and was partially unbuttoned at the top, just enough to see a peek of dark chest hair, and an askew red tie.

Alright, I'll fully admit that I thought he was hot. But soon, to my chagrin, I noticed the wedding band on his left ring finger and any hopes I had in that moment were dashed.

The gate opened, and I realized I had been staring at him nonstop for the past twenty seconds.

He cleared his throat, snapping me out of my gaze. "Thanks," he uttered awkwardly, still out of breath from the run in with the sadist. His voice was deep and modulated, matching his attractive appearance.

Before I knew it, he was standing to his feet and offering me his hand to help me stand. I felt a blush creep across my freckled cheeks as I placed my hand in his, a feeling of déjà vu overwhelmed me as I remembered the dream that I had just before I had woke in the office. It was strange…I hadn't thought about that boy in so long…

Remembering the man I was currently with, I took advantage of his chivalry as he helped me to my feet. "N-no problem," I unattractively croaked, throat dry from being parched.

He eyed me with a careful glance, taking in my attire and dazed state. "You were there during the massacre? Can you tell me what happened?" he asked. It was then that I noticed the badge signifying his rank as a detective; yet another swoon overtook me.

More memories flashed before my eyes – those of my coworkers and former patients. Blood; screaming; terror. Silver eyes. Sobs escaped my lips despite how hard I attempted to regain control. "I don't know…I heard screaming, and then I went into the hall and saw all the bodies…," I squeaked through tears.

"It's alright," the detective assured. He led me out of the elevator. "We need to get out of this place before it completely falls apart."

I nodded as we began to walk down the hallway. With the severity of his limp, I finally noticed the extent of his injury.

"You're hurt!" I cried at the visual reminder of his pain.

He groaned with every other step, obviously trying to hide how uncomfortable he was. Though he struggled, he was still fast enough that I had to speed up to match him. "It's not that bad. I'll take care of it later," he said through gritted teeth.

"I'm a nurse. When we get to safety, I can help attend to your leg-"

Suddenly, the hall began to quake around us. The ceiling began to crumble and the glass from the windows shattered. I instinctively grabbed on to the back of his vest to keep myself up, which resulted in us both falling on the floor. I landed on top of one of the police officers that lay dead upon the ground, letting out a small scream as I realized my predicament.

The detective groaned as he got back up on his feet. While I continued to stare at the dead officer, I felt a hand grab my arm and drag me back into a standing position.

"C'mon! We need to go!" he ordered.

While sprinting for the front entrance, we dodged falling debris that threatened to crush us. I struggled to keep up with the detective as we bolted through the lobby until we made it out the main door.

We watched in astonishment as the skyscrapers of Krimson crumbled and plummeted to the ground. The a gigantic chasm opened, sending cars, street lamps, buildings, and all kinds of various city structures deep beneath the earth, never to be seen again. Fires broke out in the distance, causing smoke to turn the once blue sky to a deep shade of gray. It was nothing short of a catastrophe; we witnessed our home become nothing short of an apocalyptic world.

In reverse, an ambulance came racing in our direction, hitting the car to its right and narrowly missing falling within the abyss itself. The police officer inside called out to the man with me.

"Detective! Get in! Get in!"

Glass from the windows of the hospital shattered above us; we narrowly dodged the shards as they came pouring like rain. The ground cracked beneath the vehicle, attempting to swallow it whole. However, the man behind the wheel sent the ambulance into drive, pressing his foot to the gas. Tires spun but the vehicle didn't move. Finally, they gained traction and propelled the ambulance forward.

The detective and I were forced to sprint once more to catch up. He dived in through the passenger's side window. As soon as he was inside, he grabbed my hand and yanked me in with him. With a squeak of surprise, I landed on his lap.

Up ahead, we plowed through the hospital gate, causing a collective cry from those inside the ambulance at the sudden force.

"Hey, where's Joseph?" the detective questioned the police officer, his brown eyes wide with concern.

The officer gazed back with nervous guilt painted across his features. "Hey man, sorry but he never came out! I waited but..," was his only reply.

The detective's face fell. He muttered a curse as he peered out the window, his fist tightening.

Behind me the frightened, silvery male voice of a familiar patient uttered a phrase in a soothing mantra, his words muffled over by the orotund tone of another's. "Please, settle down, Leslie," the deep voice begged. In an instant, I recognized the patient: Leslie Withers. Knowing that he was safe filled me with a sense of relief. Not to say that I didn't care for the other patients at the hospital, but, to be perfectly honest, I felt an almost maternal protectiveness for the boy. Though in his mid-twenties, he retained a timid, child-like quality; something that I somewhat admired despite his restless behavior.

When I realized who was with him though, I felt a sense of dread. Dr. Jimenez; the man was notoriously infamous for his scandalous approaches to treatment. From the times that I was with he and Leslie together, I saw the horrified reactions that the boy displayed in his presence. A knot welled in my stomach, not just due to my car sickness.

Buildings behind us continued to crumble as the chasm chased after us with an alarmingly fast approach. The police officer cursed as he watched from his rear-view mirror. "There's no going back."

I shut my eyes as the ambulance swerved, taking deep breaths to keep the nausea at bay. To my chagrin, nothing seemed to ease its relentless waves. For a brief few moments, I was actually terrified of vomiting in the detective's lap – believe me, that wouldn't have been pleasant for anyone. With each jerk the vehicle made, I clung to his arm to steady myself. In a less life-threatening moment, I might have even felt embarrassment over the fact that I was sitting in his lap.

Finally, things appeared to have settled down, and the ambulance drove down the freeway at a steady pace. I took a chance and reopened my green eyes to meet a much darker environment; we had driven into a dark tunnel. I let out a groan, raising a cold hand to my forehead. The detective's body heat radiated like a furnace, not at all easing the sickness that I felt.

With the brief second of calm, the detective turned on the radio. Changing the channels, he cursed at the silence he received. "Are we cut off from everyone?"

"Everyone must be dead," the officer replied, face falling at the realization. He stared ahead, haunted by his own statement.

His words echoed through my mind. I reverted to the depths of my mind with a blank stare as I recalled the faces of my loved ones, though they had been deceased for years. Everything I had worked so hard for had vanished in the blink of an eye. Hollow sadness filled me.

As I looked into the detective's eyes, I knew that he was experiencing similar emotions. He blinked and furrowed his brows as he returned to the present. "Everyone alright back there?" he called back to those behind us.

"Just a few bumps. We're fine," a female voice replied. I jumped, surprised at the sound. She had remained so quiet that I hadn't expected for their to be another person within the vehicle.

Leslie's timid, soft voice began repeating the woman's word of reassurance. "Fine, fine, fine…"

"We will be once we're far away," Dr. Jimenez added darkly.

"A little further and we'll be fine," the detective replied in an attempt to calm the worrying patient.

That's when he looked up in the rearview mirror and froze. Being in the unfortunate (or actually, under different circumstances, it might have been rather pleasant) position of being in the man's lap, I was privileged with a first-hand view of his every movement. Feeling him tense, I followed his gaze to the rear-view mirror. A tall, sharply featured man in a burned, white hood stood upright, his eyes locked onto Leslie with an intense stare. What little portion of flesh he still retained was an alabaster shade; the rest, from his head to his uncovered toes, was severely and grotesquely burned. The memory of silvery-white eyes piercing into mine flashed through my mind. A few pieces of the intricate puzzle began to connect together in my mind; and oh, how intricate it was. I had the misfortune of meeting this white-hooded man before as he held a syringe near my throat.

The detective whipped around to look in the back of the ambulance only to find nothing there. Once again he froze, surprise painting his hardened features.

My eyes widened, a chill coursing through me like a flash of lightning. "Who was that?" I asked with a quivering voice.

Brown eyes snapped in my direction; at the realization that he hadn't been the only one to lay witness to the man, they widened.

The radio began give feedback, much like the kind I heard while at the hospital – a sharp, piercing noise. The shrill volume increased, causing me to cover my ears.

"Fall, fall!" Leslie shouted.

The vehicle went out of control as we hit the side of the concrete tunnel. I once again closed my eyes, only catching a brief glimpse of the officer's transformation from man to living cadaver as I buried my face into the detective's shoulder. The last thing I remember is exactly what Leslie had warned us about: falling.

And fall we did.

**A/N: Do you ever go back and re-read the stuff you wrote and think to yourself, "I seriously wrote this crap?" That's how I felt when I went back to edit this chapter. -_- Ugh, I made Sebastian so rude the first run through. I fixed it though. Hopefully he's not OOC, though. ._. (I'm hoping this made him even more in character, but it's been a while since I've played the game...)**

**Hope you enjoyed it! (At least a little bit) I'm thinking about adding a bonus chapter somewhere in here, just so I can make the later chapters match up with the game better. ;) So, be on the lookout!**


	4. The White Rabbit and the Bitter Reunion

_Chapter 3 – The White Rabbit and the Bitter Reunion_

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_These are the things we lost in the fire..._

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For a few fleeting moments, I was entranced by the sensation of total weightlessness. It's difficult to explain - despite the trauma and terror I had just faced, I was left without any recollection of those resulting emotions. Totally numb. I was no longer living, merely existing. Just being in the moment. No sight, no sound, no feeling, no smell. It had all dissipated into the black abyss that I now resided inside.

My eyes remained closed, exhaustion forcing them to conceal my surroundings. Fear took hold, its death grip like a vise on my fragile state of mind. Panic overwhelmed me, heart beating to the rhythm of a hummingbird's flight.

Burning. I could feel my flesh begin to dissolve under the intensity of a flame. A sharp, piercing noise hammered into my eardrums, sinking deeper into my skull. A dull ache formed at the base of my cranium, ascending from the top portion of my neck and toward the crown. I shrieked, calling for help but to no avail.

The connection was successful.

Photographic images bounced in and out of vision, bright lights engulfing them, dissolving them as the others followed behind like a parade of strobe-like flashes. Their speed increased until I could no longer distinguish one from the other. Fire. Something burning. Children. Something golden like rays of summer sunshine. Silver. Darkness. The pounding headache returned with added force.

I couldn't take it. I begged for release. The pain was excruciating; surely, death would claim me soon. Burning flesh - my own - filled my senses, the smell like poison. Bile rose in my throat, scalding the tender lining of my esophagus.

And, once again, every sensation and emotion returned to a stable, almost nonexistent level.

_**"It's time to wake up, Ali,"**_ a combination of a deep male's and a young boy's voices coaxed with low tones. I could feel each of their breaths as they spoke in unison lightly brush my ear lobes as if they stood on each side of me.

My eyes fluttered open, a heavy cough racking through my body. There was smoke encircling me. A sharp pain on my left arm jolted my numbed mind awake, alerting me to the fact that I was resting in a small flame. Hissing a curse, I retracted the limb and held it protectively against my chest.

Despite the intensity of the sting, it was quite mild in comparison to what it could have been. Blisters would form in a small patch along my forearm, however this could easily be attended to later.

Recalling the incident before, I searched for any sign of my companions. Unfortunately, I was now alone inside the ambulance, its frame a mere pile of crushed metal from the impact of the fall.

_How...How did I survive?_ I wondered in astonishment.

_Where is everyone?_

Still hacking away, I rolled to my side, landing in tall, fall-dried grass. Once in safety, I stumbled onto my feet, cerebellum not yet steadied. The world was a whir of colors as it spun around me in a dizzying display. With unsure steps, I walked away from the site. My eyes once again closed; suddenly, I found myself falling to my knees with a loud groan.

The moment that I returned to stability, I rose to my full height; I no longer felt like I was riding a twisted merry-go-round. "Hello?" I spouted mid-cough.

The silence that greeted me left me irate. With a huff, I spun around in search of any sign of my current location. Trees engulfed the secluded section, darkening my surroundings. The patches of flames from the crash flickered, giving me my only source of illumination. With each step I took, grass and gravel crunched under my feet. Death permeated throughout the area, spawning from the carcasses of various dead animals; as a result, I covered my nose in disgust. Crickets and other insects chirped, alerting me that they survived the apocalyptic catastrophe unscathed – much to my dismay.

In a blind stumble, I journeyed forward, not eager to remain in the wreckage. With a sigh of relief, I found a clearing. For a moment I was optimistic, hopeful that the others had gotten away safely. A light in the distance further added to my brighter outlook.

In a dash, I stepped over boulders and hopped around broken crates and barrels. However my enthusiasm got the best of me; to my chagrin, I fell, rolling down the side of a steep hill and landing on my back at the bottom. "Crap," I muttered indignantly. Despite the solitude, I felt a wave of embarrassment overcome me; a stark red hue painted my pale, freckled cheeks. With a groan, I rose to a sitting position and rubbed my sore muscles. I was always somewhat of a klutz.

A smile of relief formed at my lips as I saw the flame, however, with no person in sight my hopes fell. A lean-to rested near the fire, garbage and splinters of broken crates strewn about. But, the most disconcerting sight was the pair of legs sticking out from behind the protection of the fabric. Even from a distance, I could see that they were soaked with blood. Whoever they belonged to was either mortally wounded, or more than likely, already dead.

I've dealt with dead bodies before, though on an extremely rare basis. Working at a mental hospital normally gives one the pleasure of not having to deal with death – in fact, we try to prevent that, if at all possible. But seeing one so mutilated was disturbing, to say the least.

As I approached, hesitation attempting to deter me from moving, I let out a shriek. It was the officer from the ambulance, now deceased from a bullet to the brain. His face had morphed into that of the monster that I had seen in the vehicle, snarling mouth frozen in time; blood stained his teeth. Shaking, I took a step backwards.

With a cry of horror, I fled the scene, searching in desperation for any source of help.

Beyond the cover of the forest, I spotted a lone person. Panting from the run, my chest pounded with the beat of my heart rate. Before making contact, a breather was necessary; I placed my hands on the back of my head, allowing oxygen to return to my lungs. To my right, I spotted a metallic object in the ditch gleaming in the light of the moon. Curiosity won me over as I inspected it. To my relief, it was a hand scythe; though covered with rust, it would provide some sort of protection if necessary. I held the weapon in my right hand, lowered so as to not frighten the person ahead. With timid steps, I made my way forward. "S-sir?" I stuttered.

I discovered it was a rather hefty man, middle aged and quite tall in comparison to my five-foot-six stature. The man doubled over, clutching at his skull with a tightened grip; he muttered incoherent words while his whole body seemed to writhe in agony. In an instant, his struggling ceased as he lowered his hands from his head. With an alarming growl, he turned to face my direction, revealing his gashed head; white, beady eyes glared with murderous rage.

The dead creature charged, hands ready to slice at my throat. I let out a squeak as I dodged its blow, hacking at its abdomen. It let out an irritated squeal, attempting to scratch at me again, this time with minor success. A scream escaped my lips as I felt its claws sink into the flesh of my shoulder. With bared teeth, it lowered its head to devour the skin of my neck. Before it could accomplish the job, I yanked the scythe from its stomach and whacked at its skull, various bodily fluids and tissues dispersed in all areas. The lights of its eyes dimmed before going completely dark; it collapsed to the earth.

I spit out what had gotten into my mouth, emptying my stomach in the process. In a sense of panic, I clutched at my heart, tears brimming along my eyes' waterlines. Hyperventilation consumed me as I almost crumpled into a shattering heap. All I could do was shake as I stared at the corpse of what was once a man.

A soft, timid muttering near where I stood woke me from my state. Green eyes searched for the source, scythe held in a tightened grip in expectance of another undead creature. To my relief, I found a familiar white tuft of hair amidst the darkness of the cover of the trees. Bent into a fetal-like position, he rocked on his heels while he repeated a phrase too quiet to hear.

"Leslie?" I called to him as I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand.

His hands were gripped at his head, eyes wide. In a ginger, quick movement, he gazed in my direction, seeming to wake from his fear-induced stupor. Once he realized my identity, he returned to his self soothing.

To keep me from becoming the blubbering mess that I wanted to, I focused all of my energy on Leslie. The figurative nurse's hat (as well as literal) was once again donned as I approached him. He ignored my presence as I kneeled beside him. "Inside me…inside me…inside me," he whispered, a fearful look in his sky-colored eyes.

"Hello, Leslie," I greeted with an attempt at a reassuring smile. "It's nurse Alice."

He whimpered, but seemed to calm at the sound of my voice. Blue eyes shifted toward me, watching with apprehension. His uneasiness was understandable; I looked horrible. Disheveled, my auburn hair was plastered to my sweat-dropped skin. Blood was sprinkled upon my white, nurse's uniform, the customary hat I wore was crumpled and torn in places. A vivid, red mark clung to my left forearm where I had been burned in the ambulance.

"Hey, everything is gonna be alright," I added, placing a hand on his boney shoulder. "I'll protect you. Okay?" The comforting grin grew upon my lips.

He faced me now, raising his head to peer at me under white eyelashes. Dark circles of sleep deprivation hung under his pale eyes, starkly contrasting his alabaster complexion. He slowed his breathing, lips parting to reveal chipped teeth. "You'll protect Leslie?"

My smile became genuine at the sound of his small voice. "Of course I will, honey," I assured. It was always hard to remember that he was an adult with such an innocent, child-like mind. I offered a hand to him, trying my hardest to stifle the quivering that seemed to plague me. "You want to hold my hand?"

With hesitation, he accepted, allowing me to pull him up to his feet. Hand-in-hand, we walked together. He stood at my left, while the scythe was held in my right; needless to say, we looked like quite the odd pair. Leslie shuffled along, freehand picking at his tearing cuticles while he continued to whimper. I soothingly shushed him, squeezing his hand in comfort. My eyes watched our surroundings with wariness, preparing for any danger.

We passed through the remnants of a ghost town, its residents long deceased. Every building along the path was abandoned, rotting from lack of care. Blood coated the walls, various weapons jabbed into doors as if an attacker was in desperation to get inside. Dead animals lay in piles of their own filth, carcasses torn apart as the flesh was ripped from bone. Every sight further added to my ever-growing anxiety; it was like we were in the midst of a horror movie.

"Can't go back...Can't go back…Can't go back," Leslie whispered to himself, unable to keep from fidgeting.

**Boom**

The door of one of the shacks flew open at our passing, causing me and the white-haired patient to jump. Another haunted revealed itself, snarling with decaying teeth. A white bandage covered its eyes. Barbed wire protruded from its rotting flesh, a knife gripped in its mangled hand. Without a single thought, it charged.

With this, Leslie released my hand and gripped his skull, rocking back and forth. His shaking form waddled around, dodging the haunted that attacked. "She's come home…She's come home…She's come home," he uttered, an ominous edge to his frightened tone.

I dodged the creature's swipe, ducking in just the right amount of time. It continued to swing, aiming for my neck and abdomen. With an oomph, I fell to the dirt, rocks jabbing at my exposed calves.

"Help! He's here! He's here! He's here!" Leslie cried as he bolted into the unknown, leaving me to defend myself. His white form disappeared into the darkness.

"Leslie!" I called after him, fear palpable in my raw tone.

Taking advantage of the moment, the haunted picked up its foot to squash my skull. I rolled, missing its blow. Without warning, the creature dropped its weapon, white eyes rolling backwards before its head blew to pieces. My eyes widened, mouth agape at its sudden explosion of brain matter. I searched, expecting to find my savior standing near me with a gun but to no avail. Shaking, I scrambled to my feet, running through the covering of the trees to find Leslie.

Much to my chagrin, I hit a dead end. A horde of the decaying creatures blocked my path up ahead, too involved in their own bloodlust-filled affairs to notice my sudden appearance. With no way around in sight, I creeped over to a nearby shack. The scythe held before me, I reached a shivering hand toward the knob to open it. Hoping to catch whatever dwelled inside by surprise, I pushed, allowing the door to creak open. To my relief, there was nothing but a farmer's supply of tools and equipment inside. I let out a sigh, rushing to hide for only a moment before I figured out a plan of attack.

Wasting no time, I searched through the set of shelves, hoping that maybe there might be an equally (if not more so) effective weapon at my disposal. Fortunately, I discovered a handgun upon a workbench, placed almost as if it were waiting for me to find. I grabbed it, loading it with the bullets resting beside it.

"Thank God," I sighed, smiling in relief to myself. Despite the fact that it had been years since using a gun, and that I hoped I would never have to use one again, it was a welcome sight in the chaos.

After loading the weapon, I heard electronic feedback, yet again. With bated breath, I gulped, fear striking me. The fragile hairs on the back of my neck rose, a cold chill sweeping through my body. Gazing back at the former resting place of the handgun, I found a withered sunflower; I raised a brow, not remembering the flower being there before.

With the image of piercing, gray eyes flashing in my memory, I spun around, aiming the gun at the one who stood behind me. Sure enough, I was correct in my assumption. Without even lifting a finger, the gun was ripped from my hands, landing on the other side of the room.

"W-who are you? W-what do you want from me?" I barked, failing to keep my voice from wavering. I was determined that I could not show the fear that was so prevalent inside, but my efforts would prove futile. I pressed myself even farther back into the wall for support and clung to it in a desperate attempt to stop myself from shaking. My ears pounded with the sound of my heavy heartbeat.

He stalked close enough for me to feel his breath lightly sweep my face with each exhale. The burned ends of his white, tattered robe gently tickled my knee with the slight breeze. I forced myself to continue looking into those pale, glowing, gray eyes that never seemed to cease haunting me. A brief flicker of some strange emotion escaped him before returning to his normal, hardened manner. What struck me was that, despite his close proximity, I felt no body heat that would radiate from a normal individual. In fact, I could swear that he felt cold, almost like that of a corpse.

"Don't tell me you've forgotten me, Ali." His voice was calm as he emphasized the pet name given to me at the age of six.

My mind instantly flashed back to a huge field of sunflowers. A young boy, tall for his age, and about two years older than I with sad grey eyes and board straight, platinum blonde hair. A teenaged girl – hauntingly beautiful with porcelain face and long black hair that flowed down to her waist. Playing hide and seek in an old wooden barn filled with hay. Playing tag. Laughing together. Things I hadn't quite forgotten, but hadn't thought about in many years.

The young boy was someone I would sneak out of the house to play with when my parents didn't need help on the farm; my refuge when things became too hard for me to handle. I happened across him while exploring the pasture that used to belong to us. As a child, it didn't matter to me that the Victoriano family had bought out the land and that my family didn't own it anymore. In fact, my adventurous curiosity bade me to discover who these people were.

He was strange, slightly disturbed even, but I liked him and enjoyed his company. He confided in me about his gruesome experiments on animals and the discoveries he made. Though I thought they were absolutely disgusting, it was fun to watch his sad, hollow eyes suddenly sparkle with excitement as he spoke. I feigned interest just for this reason; it was worth it if it made him happy.

He also spoke of his parents reproach of the hobby, and the sometimes abusive nature his father displayed toward him. He was a rather stern man, and held strongly to his belief in the corrupted church the family was a part of; as a result, these beliefs caused him to feel some disdain towards Ruben. I was aware of he and his father's strained relationship, but at times it seemed that he was embarrassed to even have him as a son.

And, yes, he was the weird, rich boy who lived a whole pasture away from me; but I loved him. He was my best friend, and I knew he at least enjoyed my company.

We bonded in that we didn't quite belong amongst the others. We were the 'strange children' – the ones who kept to themselves unless around a select few. Laura, for example; she was the only one he could ever truly be himself with. We were also close to the same age, which was something that neither of us had ever quite experienced before, let alone having a friendship outside of family. And in my mind, I was determined that he and I would stay together forever.

I remember the day, probably not even a month after I met them, that I announced in my childish innocence that I was going to marry him, which I was adamant about even until his supposed death two years later. Ruben's pale face had turned a deep crimson hue. His eyes narrowed in a glare as he spouted a rebuttal out of embarrassment. Laura's reaction was expected; she tried to stifle her fit of giggles at my declaration and Ruben's response. (Despite his claims at that time, he agreed to the arrangement a year later. He conceded, "As long as you don't try to interrupt me while I'm doing my experiments and Laura can live with us.")

So, as I stared deeply into the sterling eyes that bored into mine, I couldn't help but gasp. They had aged over twenty-five years. Had grown darker. Harsher. Full of bitter anger and hatred, like someone who had seen more than his fare share of pain in his lifetime. But they were his eyes, nonetheless.

"R-Ruben?" I whispered, voice quivering.

With this, he backed away; almost as if he were taken back by the name. His white-gray eyes grew larger, betraying his sudden hesitation. "No. Not anymore," he replied darkly.

I raised my hands to silence him. "Wait," I demanded, tone wavering. "This can't be right. Ruben died with Laura in the fire when I was eight –" I paused, eyes traveling across his marred form. It was brutal, grotesque; he looked like a walking cadaver. But he still retained those distinctive features, albeit sharper from age and scarring. He was once Ruben – now morbidly deformed.

My eyes widened. "Oh God." A shaking hand ascended towards my mouth as I stood with mouth agape. "Oh, Ruben…," I whispered as I continued to study him; I couldn't even finish. My stunned mind was unable to find the words. Blinking the tears away, my heart dropped, pensive sadness overwhelming me.

"Aren't you happy to see me, Ali?" he almost snarled. His eyes, however, betrayed his inner emotions. Despite his tone, he was not pleased by my reaction. The corner of his lip twitched in a frown. It was subtle, but said more than words ever could. What his expectations had been, I don't know; but, though I knew of his true identity, I continued to cower in fear.

I shook, tears cascading down my face in tiny waterfalls. A sigh escaped my lips, quivering as I tried to fight back the urge to break down in front of him. That was the last thing that either of us needed, especially him. I wanted to reach out, but hesitation held me in my place. Fear was still prevalent, not made any easier by the expectation in his silver eyes. That boy that I loved so much as a child was alive, and had been all these years. I blinked, hoping simultaneously that it was a dream and that it was reality; these two conflicting desires froze me in place.

He turned his head to the side, taking a step closer. Darkened eyes narrowed as he took in my state. "Say something," he commanded, no longer stoic but expressing his disgruntlement at my reaction.

"I-I thought you were dead," I sobbed, no longer able to hold back. I folded, wrapping my arms around myself. Every emotion that I had repressed over the years and every emotion I felt since waking to this nightmare came flooding in a single moment. There was no possible way to gain control. "They said you were dead," I whispered.

His rigid stance seemed to reach his limit as he visibly tensed. His mouth became a thin line, eyes narrowed. "You're afraid of me," he stated, the smallest hint of disappointment laced within his tone.

I sniffed, returning my eyes to his. He stared back with a twinge of betrayal. I wiped away the tears, putting on the best smile that I could muster. "I am happy to see you, Ruben," I replied. Despite the more cheerful attitude I attempted to display, he knew my inner turmoil at seeing him. He remained distant, but I could see the longing in his glowing eyes. In that moment, I was the closest thing he could get to his sister, but an ominous feeling kept me from allowing the joyful reunion I assumed that he had hoped for.

I cleared my throat as my gaze shifted toward the door. "Why?" I whispered meekly as the tears continued to fall. "Why did they say you were dead? Where were you all this time?"

"Father," he spat, the memory adding to the tension he already displayed. "He trapped me down in the basement for years like a caged animal – that's what he always wanted. To hide me away because he was ashamed of his own son." His fists tightened at his sides as he paced around me. His white hood cast a shadow upon his face, making his eyes look like two white lights in a sea of darkness. "And then he had the audacity to lie to me; he told me that Laura had died in the fire." With his back turned to me, he stopped; cloaked shoulders hunched with a deep emotion. I blinked, waiting for his next move. To my relief, he turned on heels to face me yet again. "She was unconscious, lying in a hospital bed the entire time," he replied, returning to calmer demeanor.

"Ruben,…," I started as I took a step toward him, only to find the words escape me. A deep inhale rang throughout my chest, releasing into a heavy sigh. Though I tried to think of something to say, there were no words. I was utterly speechless.

He gazed back with a slightly softened expression; comparative to his normal, heated one, at least. Taking small, calculated steps in my direction, he stood inches away. Though too close for comfort, I found myself captivated by his argent irises. The contrast of light amongst his dark aura was fascinating.

"You've hardly changed at all. Same red hair, green eyes, freckles. I always thought they suited you well," he confessed softly, eyes dancing around at each feature mentioned.

My eyes practically bulged from their sockets. Lips parting, I seemed to forget how to breathe.

He tensed at my lack of response. "I created this world, therefore I will keep you here if I choose. The others, however," he drawled, voice deep and contained, "will not remain. I suggest that you don't follow them."

"What do you mean?" I squeaked. So, he was the mastermind behind this crazed world, the architect of its design. His words brought confusion, resulting in the the return of the disturbing sensation. I shook from his proximity as chills zapped down my spine, heart pounding.

_He…he doesn't mean to __**kill**__ them, does he? _

His demeanor shifted, exchanging his stoic behavior for one filled with triumphant pleasure. I was his prize, his Ali. I had come home to him, to be by his side forever though I did not yet know it.

"Now, you're mine again," he stated in dark contentment, a faint smile forming at his scarred, cracked lips. Within an instant his mouth returned to the expressionless line that it was before. He was once again rigid as he contemplated those who threatened to separate us, jaw tightening in stab of avaricious anger. "And I won't lose you too," he almost growled with a flash of mad possession in his sterling eyes.

With that, he vanished. I was left alone to decipher the meaning of his words, dread filling me upon consideration. Without even wincing, I dropped to my knees upon solid concrete.

_My God…What have you become?_

* * *

_**A/N: Revised. The song lyrics I used are, of course, from Bastille's "Things We Lost In The Fire." Anything to do with Ruvik wouldn't be complete without this song. 3**_


	5. Curiouser and Curiouser

_This isn't real._

With the loss of my lighter, and a burning torch tightly gripped in my left hand, I took a moment to pull out a cigarette from the pack I kept in my pocket and lit it with the flame. I placed it between my lips. Taking in a puff, I felt the tension within me relax. Just the simple familiarity of holding the object gave me fleeting comfort.

Mindless…dead. That's the only way to explain how I felt. Like I was no longer present…I felt detached from the world, like I was witnessing a horrible nightmare instead of living it. The strange sense of apathy towards my own well being left me with nothing but a cold emptiness. My safety was irrelevant to the task at hand, which was to ensure Leslie's well being.

So on I stumbled down the dirt path.

_This can't be real._

I refused to think about him…the man that had once been my best friend. It was too painful. It brought too many emotions and memories that had been buried deep under decades of disguises and false hope.

I had to be alright because after the fire, that was what I had to be for my parents' sakes. They would have grown furious at hearing their daughter's cries for the friends she had lost in the blaze…So I stuffed it into my little "vault" as I call it, just like with every other problem I've ever faced.

My parents didn't necessarily approve of the special bond I had with Ruben. In fact, the one time I had mentioned meeting the Victoriano boy resulted in a tongue-lashing and a spanking that I would never forget. They forbid from ever seeing him again. I, however, refused to listen and never spoke of our meetings following that day – especially not to my dad.

My father had never gotten over his anger toward the Victoriano family. I remember that my mother was always the only one that could calm him down when he would get riled up about it, but even those moments were rare.

From the time that I was five until the age of nine, my dad had a drinking problem that seemed to stem from the drought that caused everyone in Elk River – not just my family – to lose money. When Ruben's father bought the one-hundred and thirty acres of land (that had previously belonged to his father – my grandfather) out from under him, that was the final straw.

He was never abusive towards me and Mom, but it did bother her a lot. I remember accidentally walking in on some pretty heated arguments between them. There were even a few screaming matches when my mother threatened to take me and leave if he didn't change his ways.

That was part of the reason I liked to get away from the farm to go play with Ruben. Somehow, he always knew how to make me smile again when I would show up at our daily meeting spot at the barn with tears in my eyes.

_I sprinted into the barn, long, red pigtails bouncing behind me. Tears streamed down my chubby cheeks. The little white, long-sleeved dress I wore had become dirty from the trip, not that it mattered to me. But in the back of my mind, I knew that Mama would grow furious at seeing it in this condition after just cleaning it._

_He greeted me with a small smile, which soon vanished upon seeing my distraught state._

_"What's wrong, Ali?" he asked._

_I plopped down on a bale of hay and explained the situation as best as a child at the age of six could through sniffles and sobs. He sat beside me, eyes fixed directly on me. I wrapped my arms around my knees and buried my head to continue my bawling. _

_At first he remained silent, allowing a pause hang between us. Soon, his eyes were alight with the sudden spark of an idea. He shot up and walked outside._

_"Where are you going?" I croaked, but he acted as if he hadn't heard me. I continued to cry, thinking that he left me._

_A few seconds later he walked back in, obviously trying to hide something behind his back. With a proud grin he presented a sunflower to me – to which I looked at him in bemused puzzlement._

_"In Greek mythology," he began in his usual 'know it all' way, "there was a water nymph known as Clytie who fell in love with the sun god Apollo. Even though she loved him, he did not love her back. So for days, she sat and watched as Apollo's sun chariot moved across the sky. Eventually, the gods took pity on her and turned her into a sunflower so she could follow Apollo everyday from sunrise to sunset."_

_"That's a sad story," I mumbled, not wanting to hear something that would make me even more upset. With the back of my hand, I wiped the snot from my nose._

_"Yes, but the flower represents how much she admired and loved Apollo. In the Victorian Era, they had their own language for flowers, and sunflowers meant admiration. This one here represents how much I admire you," he said, still grinning while he extended it towards me to take. _

_It took me a few seconds to process what he had said, but soon I was grinning from ear to ear at the gesture of friendship._

_"That's means you like me, right?" I asked, not fully understanding the meaning of the word._

_He sighed at my childishness. "Yes."_

_I accepted it with joy. Next thing he knew, I jumped up to wrap my small arms around his neck in a bone-crushing hug._

_"Thank you, Ruben," I said, hardly able to contain my sudden burst of happiness. "I like you too."_

Without even thinking, I took out two soulless corpses with my handgun (wasting several bullets to get the job done) and burned a third with the torch I had been toting. This sent him scrambling aimlessly and squealing in anguish as the flames consumed him until he finally dropped to the ground. From this information, I gathered that fire was the key to my survival. I grabbed the few bullets that I found on the bodies and continued my mission.

A bright light in the distance on the other side of the bay caught my attention – a lighthouse. It almost pulled me towards it, drawing me closer. I felt as if I couldn't look away. My feet began moving in its direction. But soon I stopped and forced myself to keep going, wondering why on earth I felt so drawn to the light.

After what felt like hours of nonstop walking, and the last two cigarettes in my pack later, I noticed a figure in a white lab coat running and calling in desperation for an unknown person. As I got close enough, I recognized the older man before me. Upon the dose of slight familiarity, I woke from my dream-like state.

But I instantly remembered the words of warning from my former friend prior to arriving here…"I created this world, therefore I will keep you here if I choose. The others, however, will not remain. I suggest that you do not seek them out."

In the end, against my better judgement, I decided to approach him. After all, he was a somewhat familiar face in this chaos.

"Dr. Jimenez," I called out to him, which seemed to prompt a reaction.

He turned around to locate the source of the voice that called his name and soon spotted me. Recognition seemed to fill his eyes. "Oh,…yes...," he answered, though he seemed quite unsure.

I was a little miffed that my employer had forgotten who I was.

"I'm Alice Carroll. I'm a nurse at the hospital."

"Oh, yes,…Alice...right."

"I saw Leslie earlier, but then he ran off on his own. Have you seen him?" I asked.

"He ran though that gate up ahead." He then looked angrily back towards the direction of the gate.

"Great," I quietly grumbled.

Suddenly, the uproar of the undead throughout the area commenced and the doctor's eyes widened. Another spike covered gate shut just a few feet from where we stood, blocking our escape.

"We should hide. In here," he whispered urgently while running inside one of the houses. I followed behind.

We hid upstairs in a walkway that connected two of the houses, right above where the spiked gate had lowered, and shut the door behind us. Suddenly, gunshots fired and a set of fast-paced, heavy footsteps thundered from behind the door. As I listened closely, I could tell that they were headed in our direction.

The door flew open and the first thing I saw was a gun pointed at the both of us. With a fluttering heart, I recognized the handsome, scowling face behind it.

"Who's there?" he barked.

"No! Don't shoot!" Jimenez cried. "I'm not one of "them." I'm a doctor, Marcelo Jimenez."

"And I'm a nurse, Alice Carroll," I added.

The detective lowered his gun. "You were both in the ambulance before it crashed." I chewed my lip at the awkward memory of sitting in his lap and burying my face in his shoulder. My eyes refused to even look at him. But when I finally chanced a glance, he appeared rather serious and collected as if he didn't recall it at all.

"Yes, we're lucky to be alive," Jimenez replied.

"Have you seen anyone else?" the gun-wielding man asked.

"My patient, Leslie. I saw him running up ahead, but…"

"But…?" the detective prompted.

"Come this way. Quietly, mind you…"

He took him to the edge of the railing to look beyond our secluded area.

"Have a look for yourself…" the doctor said as he handed him a pair of binoculars. I followed their example and moved to stand on the other side of the investigator.

"Those…things…chased me all the way into the village."

"Me too," the detective added. "They're all over the place."

"Leslie went through the gate over there," I explained.

"There are too many to shoot our way through," the detective stated displeasedly.

"So what do we do now?" I asked timidly.

"One of us could try to lure them away while the other two get the gate open. You two are the ones with guns…," the doctor not so subtly implied as he ran down below.

"If you say so…," the detective replied dubiously as he moved to turn the crank to raise the gate below us. After some back and forth from the two men, Jimenez passed though waving a torch around and shouting to distract the creatures.

"That old guy is gonna get himself killed," the detective sighed.

I bit my lip in thought, not speaking a word but silently agreeing with him.

He turned his head to meet my doe-eyed gaze, evaluating me from head to toe. I could feel the intense heat flood my cheeks as I began to feel like a deer caught in the headlights. From his unsure expression, I assumed that he knew I wouldn't be much help. With my 5'6 stature, weak muscles, and slender build, I hardly looked the part of a trained zombie killer. His mouth formed a thin line.

"You should go with him. I've got this under control," he ordered.

I cocked my head to the side and narrowed my eyes in confusion at the mere suggestion. "What?"

"You're an untrained civilian who isn't ready to face what's out there head on. Stay with the doctor and hide," he replied.

I glared back at him. "Look, okay I get it. You're an officer who's more trained for this type of situation than I am. And yes, okay, I haven't shot a gun since I was a teenager – or my early twenties – whatever, it doesn't matter." I raised my hands in defeat at my failed memory. "The point is that you're not invincible. I can help you, and I will whether you like it or not." I crossed my arms in an attempt to emphasize my point. "And things will go much quicker if we work together."

With this, a brief moment of silence passed between us as he thought it over. Obviously not liking the idea due to his doubtful expression. He let out a deep sigh. "Fine, but follow me and do as I do. If something happens, you run," he instructed while reloading his handgun.

I nodded in response and followed his example. "Your leg's better, I see."

He looked down at the appendage and stared as if he were seeing it for the first time. "Yeah…I guess so."

Uncomfortably, I looked around. "So, what's your name?"

He looked up, slightly puzzled. "Sebastian Castellanos. Alice, right?"

I nodded and smiled sheepishly at hearing him say my name.

The entire area, save the barn, was cleared fairly quickly although I squandered several bullets because of my inability to aim straight.

Sebastian lit a match and burned the last body. I gazed into the flickering flames before me in utter wonder as they consumed the last of the haunted, licking away every last inch until it was completely gone. Due to the adrenaline, a sudden giddy feeling built inside at the thought that I had survived countless numbers of the haunted that wielded weapons like knives, hand guns, shot guns, and even their own claw like fingers that would rip flesh from bone. I chose not to remind myself that they were once human beings like me…It was too hard to process.

I was pulled from my trance by the sound of footsteps walking away towards the gate.

"C'mon," Sebastian commanded.

Thunderous growls and the clinking of chains echoed from inside the barn to our left, and I knew from the look in his eyes that Sebastian didn't want to find out what was in there unless it was absolutely necessary. I wholeheartedly agreed with him.

We reached the gate, but soon we were met with yet another obstacle in out path: getting it open. There was no lever or button anywhere to be found.

"The only way to get the gate open is to cut through this chain."

"So, we need to find something to cut it with. But what?" I asked.

"A saw?" Sebastian suggested. "So, that leaves us with only one place to check."

I inwardly groaned. Obviously, whatever was lurking inside the barn was big enough for it to be necessary to be caged and bound by chains, which meant that it was more dangerous than the haunted we had previously faced. I checked my ammo and discovered that I only had one bullet left, much to my chagrin. I quickly relayed this to the detective.

With his newly acquired shot gun in hand, he gave me a few bullets and I loaded them into the gun.

"Stay here and hide," I was told.

I peered up at him with a raised brow. Sure, he had saved me numerous occasions that night and had to finish the job for me many times, but I still could have been of use to him. I crossed my arms indignantly.

"No, I can help–"

"-Let me take care of this one. You're not that good of a shot. If I do need you, I'll call for you. Until then, stay here until I come and get you," he replied indifferently to my reaction.

"Fine…whatever." I reluctantly caved in and walked toward one of the old houses, whispering a silent prayer that he would make it out alive.

Waiting for what felt like an eternity, I listened to the sound of my heavy breathing to try and soothe my nerves. My eyes dashed back and forth in an attempt to make out where Sebastian was from the crack in the wall. My heart pounded and raced inside of my chest, filling my ears with the erratic beat. Beads of sweat mixed from the time spent running and the sickening trepidation rolled down my forehead onto my uniform.

"Where are you?" I whispered.

Without warning, the roar of a chainsaw came to life and I witnessed Sebastian high-tail it out of the barn. He turned on a dime and blasted at the chainsaw-wielding maniac with his shot gun. It did no good, and consequently, seemed to only anger it more as the beastly creature continued to barrel towards him. Sebastian raced like a scared rabbit and flew into the house nearest to him.

I swore and ran out from behind the door to chase after him, no plan in mind whatsoever.

I scampered up the steps and stood in the entryway looking for the sadist and the detective and found them beneath the set of stairs that led to the second floor. Sebastian, in his haste, fell to the ground and the monster stalked up to him like a tiger to its prey.

I whipped out my hand gun and began to fire every last bullet I had at the back of its head. It turned around to identify the source of the shots and its beady, dead looking eyes landed on me. Sebastian took advantage of the situation and dashed up the stairs just enough to be out of reach; he continued to fire at the creature with his shotgun. It looked from me to the detective, debating which one to go after first, then chose me. It strode closer, chainsaw roaring, a growl escaping its lips behind the half-mask covering its face.

Not even thinking, I pulled the lever mounted on the wall parallel to me and watched as large metal spikes rose from the wooden floor, impaling the sadist where he stood. When the spikes retracted, the sadist fell limp to the ground, chainsaw still running.

In utter disbelief and shock, I collapsed against the wall behind me and gently slid down to the floor, running a hand through my once tied up red locks. I listened as Sebastian's heavy footsteps began to make their way towards me, stopping in front of me.

Before our eyes, the corpse of the sadist transformed into red, bead-like droplets of blood vapor, fluidly synchronized as they floated through the air as though pulled by an unseen force. My eyes followed the movement of the vaporous conglomeration as it flowed around the corner, passed right by me, and turned out the door. I stood up and chased after it.

Once I was down the steps, I saw what attracted the mass. There stood the man I formerly knew as Ruben Victoriano, drawing the droplets in like a magnet as they were absorbed into his marred body. My heart took a sudden leap inside of my chest. I anxiously observed the disapproving scowl etched into his pale face as he turned to vanish through the gate.

He knew.

_Of course._

I let out the shaky breath I didn't know I had been holding and stared blankly at the spot where he stood.

"Let's see if this works," Sebastian suddenly spoke, startling me from my daze.

He held the chainsaw in his hands and moved towards the obstruction with determination. He started it up and firmly pressed the blade against the giant silver chain. White sparks jumped and flew in all directions as the saw made an ear-piercing, grating whine caused by the intense pressure. Finally, the gigantic chain snapped and the blockade opened.

"You know, I just realized something." I stared in wonder at the village behind me. A small smile formed at my lips as I looked around.

"What's that?" Sebastian replied, obviously not really paying attention.

"This is Elk River…This is where I grew up." My smile fell at the realization of how corrupted this place had become. Believe it or not, the area had once been much nicer looking than it was then – well, as nice as a group of old farm houses could get. It was never the best looking place, not like Krimson with all the bright lights of the cityscape, but it was a cozy community of houses. A friend of my father's lived there, and I vaguely recall the visits we made to that particular area with only a small amount of fondness.

Sebastian remained silent.

"Wait…! Over here!"

We turned around and waited as the doctor ran out from the house where we had just been and joined us at the entrance.

"Wait, uh, officer. You must take me with you," Jimenez begged.

""Detective:" Castellanos," Sebastian informed.

"Leslie should be just ahead. It is imperative that we find him."

The detective nodded in acceptance.

The formerly opened gate slammed shut behind us, causing the three of us to jump.

"Ah, the hospice," Dr. Jimenez began as he led us forward."Yes…Leslie was being treated here years ago. He'd come here thing it was familiar and safe."

"You know where we are?" Sebastian questioned.

"Just ahead is the hospice my brother runs. He'll take us in."

"That didn't answer my question."

"I honestly don't know. For all I know I'm losing my mind and you're just a delusion. But I'd like to think I still have a shred of dignity and an obligation to protect my patient. As an officer of the law, you should too," Jimenez slighted.

"Hope his brother's not a jerk too…," Sebastian growled under his breath.

I eyed the man doubtfully as questions formed in my mind.

"Why was Leslie being treated at a hospice?" I asked the doctor suspiciously.

The doctor pretended to not hear my question and continued walking on without acknowledgement.

"Dr. Jimenez," I called to get his attention, but this too went "unheard." Finally, I gave up and allowed the silence to be my answer, however this only raised my suspicions.

We arrived in an area that was just as run-down as the one before. Old wooden shacks were distributed in a semi-circle with a bonfire in the center. Detective Castellanos and I searched each one, loading up on all of the ammunition we could find hiding in various places and killing each of the haunted we came across. Dr. Jimenez provided comments about our shooting, mostly productive. As we approached one of the shacks, a ghostly, fire engulfed woman burst through the closed door. The three of us jumped as she ran shrieking before falling to the ground, vanishing from sight.

Finally, we climbed a wooden set of stairs to reach an aged, brick house that sat among the wooden cabins.

_"Expose everything,"_ a male voice inside whispered.

We followed the sound from the door down to the first floor of the house where there appeared to be some kind of makeshift doctor's office.

_"Hush, hush. Don't you fret,"_ the voice said behind a white curtain.

Jimenez casually strolled toward it without question.

"Doc, no, don't…" Sebastian ordered.

"Valerio, it's me!" the doctor called.

_"The good doctor is here…"_

"This is my brother, Valerio. Leslie's original doc-" He stopped mid sentence.

Valerio, an older, hefty man with graying hair, was hunched over a decaying corpse laying on an operating table peeling away skin and ripping out organs with various tools.

_"Peel away…"_

Globs of flesh plopped onto the wooden, dirt covered floor, oozing blood and other bodily fluids. A metal clamp joined them on the ground as they fell from the doctor's hand.

_"Expose everything…"_

"Hey, what are you doing?" Sebastian interrogated.

With a brief pause, Valerio turned his head revealing a large gaping wound that exposed rotting brain matter and white, glowing eyes beneath cracked glasses. I squeaked as he completely twisted to raise his large, butcher knife at Sebastian with a disturbing growl. The detective raised his shotgun in defense but before he could fire, the room shook and an ear-splitting ring permeated the area. Each of us covered our ears in an attempt to block the noise but to no avail; it seemed to seep into our minds, tearing away until it caused a pain unlike any headache we had ever experienced before. Like a raging fire, it enveloped every inch of the brain, scratching and licking away at what little sanity we had left. I wanted to scream, but couldn't even open my mouth to do so.

_"So...itchy...,"_ the former doctor cried in agony while clawing away at his own skin as if it were a deadly disease. Blood poured down from his mutilated scalp.

_"It itches…So itchy… It itches!" _he yelled in the purest form of torture before fading away into a blue, misty haze.

At first, no one spoke a word. Finally, Jimenez whispered with a quivering voice,"How could he have done that to Valerio…?...Impossible…couldn't be Ruvik…"

I perked up at the unfamiliar name, but chose not to ask.

Sebastian slowly walked over to the desk on the other side of the operating table to look for some sort of clue as to what to do. I watched in a perplexed bemusement as he picked up an x-ray picture and studied it with a grimace, then walked over and gripped the knife that he kept in his back pocket. I nearly gagged as he plunged the knife into the belly of the corpse, re-opening the poorly stitched wound that stretched from the chest to the lower abdomen. He slowly dug his hand inside, feeling for an unknown item. Each movement of his hand creating a revolting squish that didn't ease my nausea. The sickening smell of rotting death dispersed through the room even stronger than before.

Suddenly, the corpse sat up and let out an alarming squawk before falling back down dead, causing Sebastian to tumble backwards on to the ground with a yell. In his right hand, he held a bloody set of keys. He cautiously stood back up on his feet, a small groan escaping his lips.

A scream erupted from somewhere beyond our location.

"That came from outside," Sebastian announced while moving toward the door.

Jimenez and I followed closely behind as he ran to find the source of the shriek. As we passed by a few out of place looking pigs, I couldn't help but wonder why any farm animals would be at a hospice.

Curiouser and curiouser.

"Help! Help!" Leslie screamed from afar.

"What's wrong with this kid?" Castellanos muttered.

We reached our destination quite quickly: another brick house, only this one had no windows. The front porch light was lit as if to welcome us inside. Sebastian carefully pushed the red, chipped-painted door open to reveal an empty room, save for a dining table, a few chairs, and a lit fireplace. Upon further exploration, we found more ammo in the next room and continued toward the set of stairs that led downward.

More screams echoed from below.

"He's down there," I spoke, instantly taking off to find Leslie.

The stairs led to a hallway lined with stone. The room to our left was filled with various cages, and down the hall was a door and a window which revealed an ominous, red glow from the room on the other side. I pushed the door open and peeked around the corner before stepping inside. A few couches and chairs lay in the center of the area, with an entire wall dedicated to pictures across from it. Behind them, were a set of shelves with a seemingly never-ending supply of glass bottles.

"A red room?" I questioned to no one in particular.

Behind the white curtains parallel to the sitting area stood a whimpering Leslie, hunched over in his usual, timid fashion. His little voice squeaked, "Help me..help me..," in an attempt to soothe himself. At the discovery, Doctor Jimenez ran to him immediately.

"Leslie! Oh, thank heavens."

I dared to make my way over to the boy, but was instantly stopped by Jimenez's shove to push me out of the way. Upon seeing the doctor, Leslie attempted to struggle to break free from his grip. He stared into my eyes begging me for the help that I could not give.

"Doctor Jimenez is here. Settle down…" he assured with a tone of frustration while struggling to hold him in place.

"Wait, doc. I think something's coming," Sebastian said while pulling out his gun.

Sure enough, the previously closed door was kicked open, but the assailant was unseen. All that could be heard was the faint patting of bare feet on the stone floor before the monster revealed himself. What was once a man, dressed in an unbound straight jacket, dove toward the detective. In the place where facial features should have been were rows of wriggling tentacles that extended to grab onto Sebastian's face. Luckily, the detective was able to knock the creature away in time before any damage was done. I whipped out my hand gun and aimed to fire at the monster before it could vanish yet again and shot it in the stomach. The detective then took the opportunity to kill it with a headshot.

"This place is a death trap," Sebastian announced, "Is there anywhere safe at all?"

"I think that's unlikely," Jimenez responded with a sigh.

Sebastian gave a grunt of displeasure.

The doctor led Leslie out of the room and down the hallway, while Detective Castellanos and I followed behind.

"I don't trust him," I confided to the detective in a whisper.

He glanced at me out of the corner of his eye while we continued out the door. "I don't either."

I glanced back at him uneasily. "None of this makes sense. Why was Leslie in a hospice? His medical records never indicated a history of an illness that would cause a mortality. There's not even a mention of him being here at all."

"Can't get out…can't get out…," Leslie whimpered from up ahead.

"It's not right," I whispered, to which Sebastian grunted in agreement.

As we exited the room, the doctor and Leslie stood at the end of the hall; Jimenez's hand was pressed against the stone where there were once stairs. He backed away, eyes wide with incredulity. "The stairs are gone…"

"We must be collectively losing our minds…," the detective replied as we stepped toward the pair. I instinctively walked toward Leslie to stand by him.

"…Losing our minds! Losing our minds! Losing our minds!" Leslie repeatedly yelled.

"Leslie?" I asked before the ringing began again, only softer and much less painful.

"Oh god…no…," Jimenez uttered.

I took my eyes off of panicking Leslie and blanched at the sight of what had provoked this response. Yet again, there he stood so close and thankfully so far away. His pale, glowing eyes filled with disdain towards Jimenez as he gave him a cold glare. Next, they shifted towards mine and lingered, burrowing deeper into my soul. An uneasiness settled over me. I was lost in the illuminated sea of silver as his expression morphed into something fiercer than the look he had given the doctor. Betrayal.

Anger at my disobedience.

"Ruvik…It is you…," Jimenez whispered.

Leslie dropped to the ground and screamed while clutching his head, but I could pay him no mind. My feet instantaneously moved towards the hooded man all of their own accord. Ruvik turned and walked through the doorway behind him, as if daring and commanding me to follow. The voices of the men I accompanied called to me, but I couldn't even make out what they were saying - like white noise in the background. He turned around one last time to look in my direction with that same intense anger before disappearing completely.

After he had vanished, I turned to run back to my companions, but it was already too late. The scenery of the hall morphed and faded in and out of existence. With one last fleeting glance at the faces of Sebastian and Leslie, I was gone.


	6. Grief

**Chapter 5 - Grief**

* * *

_A/N: Hey y'all. So, here's that chapter that I should have had out a **long, long **time ago. ._. Seriously, guys I'm soooo sorry...T-T _

_It's just, I don't know whether this is actually any good or not. I know I'm not a great writer, but I'm working my butt off to get better. Also, I found out right after I put up the first chapter that there's a story similar to this one (which I sincerely apologize for, I had **no **idea about it **at all.**) I hadn't even read TEW fanfiction yet, and I thought I had a really good idea..but now...I just don't know. _

_I just gotta know guys, is this even worth my time? If no one is enjoying it then it may have to stop. School is CRAZY, so if I don't get much feedback on it then I just can't do this anymore. I'm sorry and I hate to be this way (really, I HATE being that person)...I just need a reason to keep going. So,...let me know and be honest, please._

_And to those of you who just read all of that: you're so awesome. T-T *virtual hugs*_

* * *

I found myself in an ocean of pitch black, with not even the faintest of light. I couldn't see my trembling hands out in front of me.

To make matters worse, I'm deathly afraid of darkness. It's not the fact that I can't see anything that bothers me, that part of it I'm perfectly okay with. It's the fact that you don't know what's out there lurking in it. All you can do is either wait or search blindly for a way out.

**"Oh, Ali…"** I could hear his disembodied voice dance through the air around me, as if encircling me. **"You've disappointed me. I instructed you to stay away with the intention of keeping you safe,…and yet you have deliberately disobeyed… I know your deepest fear, what you've confided in me as a child and what still haunts you to this day. Darkness. And it's your punishment for your defiance."**

I could hear the guttural squeals and howls of the undead in the distance. I shook. Cold chills shot through me. My breathing became so erractic, that I began hyperventilating. My heartbeat raced and beads of cold sweat began to roll down my face. Tears formed in my eyes as memories from my childhood of complete and utter terror flashed through my mind. They came all at once, too fast for me to interpret one from the other. _Cold. Dark. Falling._

I fell to my knees and curled myself into a tight ball on the ground below, too scared to even cry. This darkness was far beyond any sort that I had ever known – the blackest black I had ever experienced. Slowly, I felt like I was losing myself to it.

"I'm sorry,…I'm sorry," I pleaded to him in a soft mantra. I don't know how long I stayed that way. For all I know, hours could have passed. But that didn't matter, because at that moment it might as well have been an eternity.

A faint illumination began to dilate in the distance and he appeared before me, fading into existence as if he were a glitch on a television screen. He stared down at me unfazed by my cowardice. His sudden appearance caused me to let out a small squeak of surprise.

"St-stop!" I cried up to him, stumbling to get back on my feet. "J-just, please stop this!"

"Don't ever disobey me again," he drawled, almost like a parent to a child.

I nodded shakily. "Okay...I promise."

He turned to prowl around me, eyes darting over every inch. "I always wondered what became of you after you left. It's really too bad we had to reunite this way." He seemed void of expression, almost hollow, but soon it was replaced by the tiniest smile of deranged pleasure. The way he looked at me was unsettling, like he was analyzing every inch of me.

"But it would be a lie to say that I haven't enjoyed watching you," he confessed. "You've managed to adapt quickly to this world I've created. I didn't anticipate your survival. A pleasant surprise, I'll admit."

"Why are you doing this?" I questioned with a wavering voice, hand resting on the loaded gun in my pocket though I knew it would do me no good.

"Revenge. Payback for what they've done to me." He stopped in front of me. "My research was so close to perfection. But Jimenez betrayed me and chose to use it against me."

"Wait…Jimenez? He was involved?" I frowned. "What research was this?"

Ruvik tensed. "He and I were partners," he replied bitterly, continuing to circle me. "Through my research, I theorized that the human mind could be linked in order to share the memories and perceptions of another individual. For my generous donations to the hospital, he assured that I was given test subjects to validate this conjecture."

"So, that's where all of those patients went? But why?" I demanded, growing furious. "What you're talking about here is insane."

He stopped right in front of me again. "That scum?" Questioning eyes locked onto my own. "They were mine to do with as I please." He motioned to himself to emphasize his point. "In the field of science, sacrifices must be made in order to expand our knowledge…no matter how abhorrent it may seem to those of a lesser mind."

I shook my head, completely astounded by the man's barbaric outlook on the value of human life. "Oh,..now you insult me too?" With a scoff, I turned away. Something told me that he wouldn't intentionally cause me harm, but I still couldn't even look at him.

From my experience at the hospital, I knew that finding reason with him was pointless at this point. Now was the time to try to change the subject.

I took a shaky breath. "So, is that why I'm here?" I asked. "So I can be your plaything? Is that what we all are to you?"

For a moment there was only uncomfortable silence between us. With my back turned, I could only imagine what he was doing or thinking. Suddenly, he glitched before me – face downcast and eyes filled with fierce determination – which caused me to jump back in surprise. I immediately began backing away.

"You're mine. That is why you are here." Despite the low tone of his voice, it seemed to boom through the room, dour and authoritative. "Have I not made that clear?"

I cleared my throat and tightly balled a portion of the fabric of my skirt in my right hand. My eyes locked onto his, too afraid to look away. "So,…you've got me…Now what?" I asked softly, voice filled with emotion.

"I cannot ensure your safety, though I will do what I can." He raised his head to a normal level, appearing only slightly less intimidating. "Follow the beacon. That is your only hope for survival."

After that, he was gone. And I was alone.

'_Follow the beacon?' Beacon Mental Hospital?_

I slumped back against the wall and sank until I hit the floor. My head fell into my hands.

"I know you can hear what I'm saying…," I whispered. I let out a sigh and licked my lips. "Really, I wish I could go back and change everything so you didn't have to become…this." I closed my eyes. "I know of all people that you didn't deserve it."

The only answer I received was silence.

After a few minutes of regaining my composure, I realized I was in some kind of a hospital ward. I stood up and began walking. Blood and, what I assumed to be, human body parts squished under my feet. The stench of rotting flesh was overwhelming, but strangely, I was growing used to it.

I immediately searched for some sort of exit, and was rewarded by the sight of the large, red letters that guided me to my gateway to freedom. I ran for it without another thought.

The door slammed behind me as I passed through and I found myself in front of a stairwell. All I had to do was decide whether to go up or down. And I had to make a decision quick.

So, I chose to go up. Seeing as that last place I remembered being was in a basement, I figured it was the best option. I bolted up two flights of stairs before I saw that the next set of stairs and the upper floor were blocked off by tables and wheelchairs stacked on top of each other.

_Of course._

I groaned in frustration and slammed my fist against the railing before turning around and heading back down.

_Of course he would do this to me._

It seemed like the stairwell was never-ending. Before too long, my legs began to grow tired from the amount of running I had done. So, with nothing chasing me at that moment, I decided to take a short breather.

This turned out to be a grave mistake.

After what seemed only a few seconds had passed, I began hearing a clanking noise. Faint at first, but soon it grew louder. More intense as the scraping of metal on tile became more and more apparent. As I listened I realized that heavy footsteps accompanied it, along with a heavy breathing.

_What the…?_

I looked up.

The creature that stood two floors above wore a dead pig's head over its own – eyes crudely stitched shut, blood smeared down it's pasty cheeks. The body was similar to that of a very large man's, only decomposing. Chains enveloped it from the neck down. Hooks wrapped with barbed wire hung from its wrists where hands should have been, while a few protruded from its hunched back.

It paused as we seemed to make eye contact.

Then it let out an ear piercing shriek before charging at me.

I whipped out my gun and hightailed it down the stairs screaming. Though I refused to turn around I could just sense that the creature was right on my heels. The chains clanked and jingled as it chased me. The creature panted heavily, I swear I could almost feel its hot breath down my neck.

Finally, I saw a door up ahead and aimed for it. I slammed it behind me and slid the locking mechanism into place. Next, I pressed myself against the door in an effort to hold the creature back as it attempted to ram its way through. And with each shudder the door made, the creature only intensified its squeals. The tips of hooks protruded through the crack in the door as it scrambled to get inside. Adrenaline coursed through my veins. The lock was breaking.

I had to run.

I turned on my heels and dashed down the hallway behind me. The lock snapped and I could hear the creature's howls as it came barreling at me.

Running as hard as possible, I had just enough time to be out of its grasp. Up ahead, the corridor made a right turn. I turned right and dived for the open vent near the floor, clambering to get inside.

I just kept going, not willing to risk being caught. It let out an angry scream before I heard it claw and bang on the walls as it searched for me. Soon, the monster gave up. I listened as the chains dragged on the ground and away from the area until they became nothing but sweet silence.

Finally, I stopped and lay there panting, shaking from head to toe. I wiped the sweat from my brow. Though I was exhausted I knew I couldn't stop again, lest I run into something equally as frightening and dangerous. I crawled on, taking a few brief seconds to occasionally catch my breath. Cobwebs, dust, and other miscellaneous things that I don't want to know about seemed to thrive inside, adding to the nastiness that I was already covered in.

Up ahead, I saw light stream through a vent, making horizontal illuminations on the floor of the air duct. I immediately headed for it. Once I arrived, I awkwardly moved to kick it open. Luckily for me, the bolts had become so rusty that it didn't take much effort before the metal landed with a loud _clank_ on the floor.

This attracted the attention of the two haunted that stood on the other side. They came at me, growling and hissing. One carried a butcher knife in her hand, while the other carried a gun.

I began firing at the one with the handgun, taking it out after the fifth bullet. Unfortunately for me, this happened to be my last. I pulled the trigger again, this time making a clicking noise that alerted me to the fact that I was now out of ammo.

With nothing left to do, I hopped out of the vent and pulled out my hand-scythe. The knife wielding one charged.

Let the fighting begin.

Our weapons clashed as I blocked its swing at my head. I kicked it in the stomach, sending it stumbling backwards. I rushed to finish the job, until I felt a slash at my arm. I cried out at the stinging pain before hacking at its head, killing the haunted. She fell limp at my feet.

Panting, I closed my eyes until I regained some strength. I was weary, drenched in sweat along with God-knows-what. I sat on the ground and allowed myself a moment of rest.

The room appeared to be some type of sitting room. A few chairs were scattered about, some toppled over and some broken. Pictures in broken frames hung from the walls, most of things relating to the hospital. In the center of the room, however, sat a table. Placed perfectly, almost as if it were there on purpose. On top, I could make out what looked like a box through the dim lighting.

Curiosity got the better of me, and I stood to find out what it was.

_A tape recorder?_

It was old, obviously, covered with dust and filth but still looked to be in somewhat good condition. I ran my fingers over the buttons. Just to see what would happen, I pressed play.

Static.

_Figures._

I began walking away before I heard it cut to heavy breathing and soft crying. I turned around.

_"Alice,"_ the man's voice whispered with a sniffle.

I froze.

"D-daddy?" My voice trembled.


	7. Ghost of Days Gone By

**Chapter 6 – Ghost of Days Gone By**

* * *

_Do you feel the same for what once remained?_

_Yesterday is gone, we can't go back again_

_Do you hear the cry for the ghost of days gone by?_

* * *

I'm no stranger to pain. I'll admit that in my thirty-five years I've grown quite accustomed to the sensation – not physical, per se, but emotional. I'd like to tell myself that I have a high tolerance for it, but I know this to be false. It seems like mostly I've brought it on myself. There's so many things about my life that I've not mentioned, and really would like not to. But I suppose, with this journal being a release for what I've contained within me for so many years, I should lay it out now.

I'm not proud of some of my decisions in life. Many were, to put it bluntly, stupid and led to nothing but heartache. My resentment toward my parents is one of the many.

…

_"Alice," _he whispered with a sniffle.

"D-daddy?" My voice trembled.

I hadn't heard my father's voice in over twenty years.

_"We…" _He whimpered. _"We love you so much…"_ He let out another soft sob. I could hear him shuffle whatever he was speaking into, extreme fear palpable in his shaking, baritone voice.

I remained silent as tears welled in my eyes. I pulled up the tape recorder and held it closer to me, eyes never leaving it.

_"Something happened to your mother…And something bad is going to happen to me too. I have to tell you.."_ He sniffed. _"You remember when we first moved into the city? Of course you do…I know how that affected you." For_ a moment he went silent. Only the heavy, quivering breath alerted me that he was even still there.

_"I knew about you and the Victoriano children…Oh God…Baby, listen. I did something stupid,…and now I'm gonna have to pay for it."_ The sobs grew louder, more intense. _"I set that barn on fire. Me and some of the others." _

Tears streamed down my face as he broke down. "_I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I know you'll never forgive me." _His breathing quickened. I could just sense his utter panic. He continued to say he was sorry in a quiet mantra until there was nothing but silence.

I had reached my limit.

Falling to my knees, I clutched the tape recorder close with shaking hands and wept bitterly. Memories came flooding back of the day when I was told that my parents had been killed in a car accident so long ago. Scorched until they were unrecognizable as even human. They were finally identified after they had been missing for almost a year.

* * *

_I arrived home at 5 'o clock from detention and immediately retreated to my room, as usual. Since moving in with my grandparents after my parents' disappearances, it had become a common occurrence. Around this time in my life at the age of fifteen, I was quite rebellious. This usually resulted in many days spent in detention due to fallouts with teachers or other students. Particularly those who made fun of me for coming from a poor family. My grandparents constantly chided me for it. They wanted better for my sake, but I chose to ignore their pleas._

_I was met with a knock on the door. No word spoken after. No "Ali, we need to talk to you," or "dinner is ready." Just silence._

_For a moment, I nearly didn't answer. I hoped that they would stay on the other side, away from the comfortable solitude of my room. Where bad things didn't happen. Where I could still imagine that Mama and Daddy were out there alive and well. They would come back and say, "We're sorry that we scared you! We left on a trip and weren't able to tell anybody for the past eleven and a half months! But we're back, and we love you so much!" I wanted whoever was on the other side of that door to leave me._

_To allow me to live in blissful ignorance._

_The door opened. It was my grandfather. His eyes were red and puffy, and from that I knew that he had been crying. "Ali…," he said softly. He couldn't even finish._

_And he didn't have to, I knew... They were gone. They left me._

_I was sitting on the end of my un-made bed, staring right in front of me at nothing in particular. My fingers fiddled with a corner of the sheets. "How?" I whispered._

_He sniffed. "They think it was a car accident…It just took them a while to figure out– never mind. You're too young for this." He looked at his feet._

_But I would have none of it. "Why?" _

_"Alice, please– " _

_**"WHY?"**_

_He couldn't even look up at me. He let out a shaky sigh. "When they found them,…they were unrecognizable. Burned…charred…Their car just…exploded." His bottom lip quivered._

_I didn't even respond...I couldn't even cry. _

_We stayed that way for I don't know how long. I could hear his occasional sniffle, however I knew that he was trying to be strong for me. Neither of us spoke a word, nor looked at the other. He never left, but never approached me._

_Finally, after about thirty minutes I stood up and calmly walked to the bathroom across the hall, brushing past him as I moved through the doorway of my room. I slammed the door behind me. Inside, I sat on the edge of the tub and continued to stare just like I had before. Not really thinking, just allowing myself to sink deeper and deeper until I could no longer take it. Though I knew this was inevitable, it didn't help ease the crushing weight. The unbearable hopelessness. _

_Suddenly, I cried like I never had before, screaming in pure devastation. Everything shattered. I remained this way until I collapsed onto the linoleum floor. For four hours after that, I didn't come out. _

_When I finally did, I packed my bags and left out the window of my room – at the time, never planning to return to my grandparent's home._

* * *

My mind was spinning. Memories and thoughts blended together, each indistinguishable from the other. Sanity was replaced by overwhelming guilt, as if I were the one responsible. As if I could have, and should have, done something to stop it.

I had always wondered. I denied it repeatedly – based it all on coincidence – but in the back of my mind I knew. The day after the fire we just left, leaving everything we owned behind as if it never mattered. As if everything my father had ever worked for meant nothing. Now I knew for certain. My father was one of the many people responsible for turning my former best friend into a monster. If not for his actions, he – no, we – could have lived our lives in peace and happiness.

I hated him.

With a bitter scream, I raised the tape recorder high above me and smashed it into the ground, repeatedly slamming it until I was left with nothing but broken shards. The tiny red light that emitted from it gave a brief flicker before finally dying. I dropped what remained of the crushed box.

Broken.

I raised a shaky hand to my quivering lips as aggrieved sobs escaped them.

As I opened my eyes, there at my feet sat a sunflower – perfectly intact, as if just plucked from the stem, the bright yellow was such a stark contrast to this dark world. I gingerly picked it up and observed it as if I had never seen such a beautiful flower in my entire life. Nostalgia and thoughts of happier days filled me. A few tears escaped my eyes, trailing down my dirty cheeks. There's only one person who could have done this.

Ruben.

My eyes drifted upwards, and there he was in the doorway. Glowing silver eyes observed my distressed state in an almost calm, yet obviously displeased manner. For once, the anger that usually shone through his eyes was subdued; instead they appeared hollowed, almost void of any emotion at all.

I slowly rose to my feet. Neither of us spoke a word. His pale gray irises never left mine, gazing deeply as if reading my mind.

And, for once, I approached him.

He stayed perfectly still, demeanor, though still reserved and stiff, slightly softened. With tender, unsure steps, I stood merely a few inches away. But no matter how much I wanted to, I couldn't bear to meet his gaze. Instead, I chose to look down at my blood and dirt covered shoes – tears slowly trailed down my nose and dripped onto the once white tops. Rough, calloused fingers reached under my chin, lifting my head to meet his. I let out a slight gasp at his touch, firm yet gentle.

My lips parted. We stared into each other's eyes for a few fleeting moments.

I found myself slowly reaching out my hand towards his face. Hesitantly, I paused, waiting to see if he would object; he only continued to stare back just as before. With gentle fingers, I traced over the remaining unmarred skin, cold as death. I knew with the severity of his scars that he wasn't able to feel my touch. Warm tears, once again, welled in my eyes. I swallowed the lump in my throat, fighting to not break down in front of him. A shaky breath escaped my lips.

"I…I didn't know," I breathed.

At first, he remained silent – contemplative. "I know," he replied.

I swallowed the lump in my throat. "Does it hurt?"

"I no longer feel anything."

I shook my head, face contorting as I could no longer hold back the emotions I tried to suppress. "I should have…I should done **something**," I quietly said through tears.

"All that matters is that you and I are together again, and **nothing** can ever take you away from me."

I blinked.

He lowered his hand from my chin. His other reached to firmly grab the wrist of mine that still lingered upon his cheek. Blackened fingers traveled down to my own, wrapping themselves through in a tight embrace. After a moment of surprise, I found myself relaxing into the hold. Our hands fit together as if they belonged with no other – just as they always had.

I probably should have fought to get away, but I succumbed to his will. Truth be told, I didn't even want to fight it; I wanted his company. Side by side, he began leading me through the doorway.

"Where are we going?" I asked.

"You'll see soon enough," he replied over his shoulder with the faintest hint of a smile.

Before my eyes, our surroundings shifted into an entire field of bright golden sunflowers. The sky was cloaked in shades of a yellow and purple sunset, the sun peeking just from beyond the horizon. A slight breeze stirred the tall stalks, causing their leaves and petals to dance in a gentle sway. Rustling was the only sound to be heard. For a moment, the familiarity took me away from the heartache I had just experienced.

I looked to my right, but Ruben was no longer with me. I spun around in a panic.

"Ruben," I called. Silence was my only answer.

I gently pushed the stalks aside, the leaves tickling my bare arms and face, and walked, knowing that if I just kept going I would soon reach the end. Then, to my surprise, I stumbled across a familiar sight – the old, wooden barn. It sat perfectly just as it had those seventeen years ago. Like an old friend, it greeted me, inviting me to walk inside.

How can this be..?

Dirt and gravel crunched under my feet as I stepped up to the doors. I cracked one open to peer inside, and found the sound of children's voices.

_"Tag, you're it!"_

_"That's not fair!"_

_"You can't catch me!"_

Squealing and giggling danced through the barn, and for a moment a small smile formed at my lips. I fully opened the door and stepped in. My eyes widened as I saw the three spectral forms that ran all around. One was of a young boy, face lit up with a grin as he chased a young girl. He was tall for his age and well dressed, seeming completely out of place in this ratty building.

"Ruben," I whispered.

The young girl laughed happily as she ran away from him, long braided pigtails flying behind her. Her little frilly dress was slightly frayed at the edges. Suddenly, the boy came up from behind and tagged her.

_"Aww._" She pouted.

"Is that…?"

_"Got you, Ali!"_ Ruben cried with a triumphant smirk.

Sure enough, the young girl turned around revealing chubby, freckled cheeks bearing a huge grin with a few missing teeth. Her hair was beginning to come loose from its braids, several strands hung in her face. Though she panted from exhaustion, she never dropped her smile.

_"Let's play again!" _the six year-old version of me cried.

Meanwhile, I stood with mouth agape at the sight of times that I thought had long since died in the blaze. My head shook in disbelief. "This can't be real."

_"Let's play another game,"_ a teenage girl replied with a sweet smile as she pushed a strand of hair behind her ear – trying to hide the fact that she was growing tired of tag. Her long, dark hair cascaded softly down to her hips, however it was now tousled from running. Her dress draped around her in a flattering fashion.

"Laura?" I whispered.

_"Like what?"_ Little Ali asked innocently while she bounced on her heels in anticipation.

_"How about hide and seek?"_ Laura suggested.

_"Let's play that," _Ruben said. (Knowing him, he agreed to it just because his sister had offered.)

_"Yeah, I like hide and seek!"_ Ali added (just because Ruben had said he wanted to).

_"Okay, but remember, we need to stay inside the barn. You two hide and I'll count,"_ Laura instructed while she turned around and covered her eyes. _"1..2..3.."_

The two kids ran behind a hay bale at the opposite end of the barn. _"Ali," _Ruben whined in a harsh whisper, _"You can't hide with me. You have to go somewhere else."_

_"I can hear you, Ruben,"_ Laura called in a sing-song voice. "_10…11…12…"_

Ali gasped, eyes growing wide in panic. She looked all around and quickly shuffled toward another hay bale close by. A tiny giggle erupted from behind.

_"Ali, I can hear you too,"_ Laura announced with a giggle of her own. _"27…28…29…30. Ready or not, here I come!" _ She appeared to nonchalantly walk around, hands behind her back with her head tilted upwards. Her lips curled in a mischievous smile. _"Hmm…Where, oh, where could those two be?"_ she sighed playfully. Her direction suddenly shifted towards the area where Ali hid. _"I wonder…" _She slowly prowled up to the hay bale. _"Gotcha!_" she cried as she pounced to peek on the other side.

_"Oh no!" _Ali said as she was spotted. She frowned in disappointment.

Laura leaned in close to her left ear. _"Now you've got to help me find Ruben."_

Ali's attitude shifted to yet another gigantic, beaming smile. She eagerly nodded and rose to run to the spot that she had last seen Ruben in. To her dismay, he wasn't there. She bit her lip in confusion and began looking all over the barn to find him.

Meanwhile, I grinned as I spotted little Ruben climbing the ladder to the upper floor of the barn. He stealthily slipped behind a pile of hay in the left corner. It always made me mad how good at hide and seek he was.

_"He's not down here, Laura," _Ali announced as she checked the last possible spot.

Laura looked to the upper section and spotted the giant pile. She smiled and motioned for Ali to come over to her. She leaned in close and whispered, _"Do you see that pile of hay up there?"_

Ali nodded.

_"Go up there and check it. I'll help you climb up the ladder."_

Ali walked up to the ladder and began to climb, Laura following close behind to make sure she stayed safe. Once she reached the top, she eagerly ran up to the hay. _"Found you, Ruben!"_ she cried.

He poked his head out from behind._ "Hm."_

_"Okay, you two, time to come down,"_ Laura said as she held her arms open to help Ali.

Ali feebly and slowly made her way down with unsure steps. Laura remained right at her side, holding her to keep her steady. On the final rung, Ali hopped to the ground. Ruben followed closely behind.

_"I think it's time that I return home. Ruben, you can stay if you would like, but make sure that you and Ali leave before dark," _Laura reminded.

_"Maybe I should go with you…,"_ he replied.

_"Can't you stay, Ruben? Just for a little bit longer?"_ Ali begged. She gave a tug on his sleeve.

He looked from Ali's pleading gaze to Laura's encouraging one as well and let out a sigh. _"I guess for a short while longer – " _

Ali cut him off and hugged him, head just barely reaching his shoulder (only because she stood on her tiptoes). He was momentarily set off-balance from the sudden impact. She let out a happy squeal._ "Thank you! Thank you!_"

Laura, with an equally happy grin, wrapped her arm around the boy and placed a gentle kiss on the top of his head. He gave a content smile at the act. She said her goodbyes to the two children and continued out the doors of the barn, completely vanishing through them.

Suddenly, Ruben – in his true, adult form – revealed himself to me yet again, standing on the other side of the barn. While our younger selves continued to play he slowly walked toward me, eyes filled with determination. My heart raced in my chest. Once he had approached, he took the same hand that he held before in his own – our bodies pressed close together.

Those silver eyes were slowly becoming less terrifying and for a moment, I found myself unable to look away. Their piercing stare mesmerized me; they were almost hypnotic.

"It's us." A smile formed at my lips. "Why did you show me this?"

"Why do you think?" His breath gently swept my lips as he spoke.

I removed my hand from his, causing him to furrow his brows – whether in confusion or displeasure I couldn't tell. But then, instead of turning away, I slowly wrapped my arms around him, burying my head into his cloaked shoulder. His breath caught in his throat. He remained still, hesitant. Obviously surprised by the act, his hands lingered at his sides before slowly and rigidly wrapping around me.

I closed my eyes and allowed myself to enjoy the moment of intimacy, though I knew I shouldn't have. I shouldn't have liked it. I shouldn't have wished to just stay this way and never return to the dark emotions I had momentarily pushed aside. But however much I wished that I could live in a fantasy, I knew that reality would rear its ugly head eventually.

And when it did, I wish that I had kept my mouth shut.

"Ruben,…do you know what happened to my parents?"

Time seemed to stand still. I felt him tense. His arms unwound themselves from around my waist and, once again, lowered to his sides. I raised my head up to look at him and found him scowling, staring beyond me as if I were no longer there. The corner of his lip twitched and he shoved me away from him. To my misfortune, I had struck a nerve.

"Ruben, why was my father's voice on that tape recorder?" I questioned harshly.

He walked toward the barn doors, and paused to look back over his shoulder. "They received what they deserved," he drawled, tone matching his irritated body language. Suddenly, he disappeared, and I was yet again left to my own devices.

"Ruben," I called out to him, the impact of his words finally hitting me. My green eyes widened, tears filling them once again. I stormed to the doors and threw them open in a fit of rage. **"What did you do to them?!"**

Why couldn't I have just allowed myself to be ignorant…?

* * *

**A/N: Hey guys! So, thank all of y'all once again for all of the reviews, favorites, and follows! It was very encouraging to hear from y'all. :) It's convinced to keep the story going for now. (And I'm sorry to be that way, it's just everything is so crazy right now.) But I hope all of y'all have enjoyed this chapter! ^^ Yes, I am evil.**


	8. White Rabbit

_(Chapter 7 – White Rabbit)_

In a single moment, my entire world had been shattered into a million pieces. The cause of my parents' tragic "accident" had finally come to light, though it had not at all been my expectation.

Never once did I imagine that my best friend would betray me as he did. Then again, never once did I imagine that he would even be back in my life. The result of his actions proved to be more damaging than he realized – at least I would like to thing. I had lost my family. Not only this, but the amount of loved ones I had in my life was dwindling to a very tiny number; at the time, I only had my maternal grandparents for support.

However, they gave me more love than my own mother and father ever did. My relationship with my parents was…strained, at best. They provided, but I was usually left to my own devices. Sometimes, I even felt that they were against me, as every teenager feels on occasion. But these thoughts were for a legitimate reason, though I was unaware and refused to believe at the time.

Despite this, I wanted them in my life – and Ruben had robbed me of that.

"Is this what you wanted?!" I screamed to the sky. "You couldn't stand to suffer alone, so you take everything away from me too?!"

Sunflower stalks flew in all directions as I hacked my scythe through them. The sky above was growing darker, the roll of thunder boomed in the distance as a violent storm was setting in. Lightning flashed, illuminating the deep gray clouds.

"I-I trusted you, and you betrayed me. _You're no better than Jimenez!" _

_Whack_

The storm was approaching at an even faster rate. Lightning struck the ground not too far away from where I stood; however, I could not make myself move. I kept slashing and demolishing until I finally collapsed onto the soil.

"God, Ruben…"

Realizing the name that left my lips, I fumed. My nostrils flared, breathing growing heavier. Balled fists tightened, knuckles turning white.

"No…No, you were right. You're not Ruben….Not anymore," I spat through gritted teeth. Despite my solitude, I was quite sure that he would be able to hear me. At this, I turned my eyes to the sky. "I don't know who you are anymore….What did they call you? Ruvik?" I wiped away the remaining tears and sniffed.

"This is the last time I cry for you, Ruvik."

In resolution, I rose to my feet, prepared to hide out in the barn until the storm passed. I was done with that man, ready to tell it to his face if the need arose. His return had brought nothing but pain. To know that he was the one responsible for it all left me sick. I wished I had never known him. I cursed the very day that I met that boy in the sunflower field. Why fate had led me there that day, I will never know. But at that moment, I would have given anything to erase him from my memory.

I placed my hand scythe back into my pocket. My eyes took one last glance toward the field of sunflowers; only a few stalks were broken compared to the vast sea before me. At this, I huffed; I had no desire to see another sunflower for the rest of my life. Raking my fingers through my disheveled, scarlet hair in an attempt to detangle the matted locks, I walked toward the double doors of my hideout.

However, my plans were dashed in an instant. The ground began to tremble beneath me. The barn and everything that accompanied it shook, creaking and groaning as dust seemed to fall upwards into the sky. Farm equipment and tools that lay scattered all joined in the jumbled rhythm.

I was sent flying; the laws of gravity completely defied as I felt myself falling into the sky. Screaming, I closed my eyes and covered my head as I awaited my imminent fall to my death. The world around me spun; trees whizzed by as I went flying sideways and upside down. In an instant, I slammed onto the dirt with a heavy thud. Wincing at the pain of landing on several tiny rocks on my back, I let out a weak cry. I attempted to get back on my feet, feeling my legs give way beneath me. The flight had messed with my equilibrium; to my dismay, as I stood I found myself falling right back down again. I groaned and retried, this time with slightly more success. As the world settled, I realized where I had been sent.

The house was two-story, old, and decrepit. Once white paint now faded and chipped in areas. Moss and vines grew on the exterior, blanketing the rotted wood in a sheet of dark green and dull brown. Panes of glass within the windows were cracked, some completely shattered. The once blue shutters slowly flapped open and closed with the force of the wind. Wind chimes on the front porch rang with an echoic, jumbled melody of sounds, further adding to the home's foreboding appearance. The rocking chair squeaked as it slowly rocked back and forth as if some unseen person occupied it. Squeals and howls echoed from inside, while the orange flicker of a fire exposed the shadowed figures of the haunted that dwelled within.

This was once my home.

"No…don't do this to me," I whispered, feeling myself grow weak at the sight. After everything that I had just been through, the last thing I needed was to revisit the site of more of my childhood trauma.

A soft mumble began to pierce the veil of my clouded mind. Its familiarity took me from my fazed state, returning me to the present before I could sink deeper into misery. As I turned my gaze all around, searching for the source, I was met with a white form in the distance. He knelt near the base of a tree, hands placed above his head in defense.

"Leslie!" I cried upon seeing him. Without hesitation, I dashed to the boy's side. "Thank God, you're okay," I sighed in relief. If not for being who he was, I was tempted to hug him; if I did, he would try to escape from my embrace.

His huddled form continued to sway, hands wringing together in anxiety. A whimper escaped his lips before he pointed toward the direction of the house that I had just ventured inside. His ice-colored eyes betrayed his exhaustion despite their gaze of trepidation at the earth below. "Inside," he whispered in a mantra, aiming finger quivering.

"What do you mean?" I asked him, eyes widening in concern. My head dashed back toward my former home, hoping to discover the source of his current worry. I studied the doorway, blackened by the dark of night; it seemed still despite Leslie's words.

"The haunted? I can take care of it, Leslie. I promise not to let them get to you." I gently placed a hand on his shoulder, which turned out to be a wrong move entirely. He cowered from my touch, crying out as I touched him as if he were burned alive.

Retracting my hand, I felt a pang of hurt at his reaction. In a normal setting, he was not bothered by my contact. A wave of sadness overcame me as I studied him. He was too far gone; this world was stealing away the little amount of progress we at Beacon had made with him over the years. I bit my lip, fighting back the urge to cry.

"I'm not going to hurt you, Leslie. I-I'm one of the good guys, remember?" I could feel myself crumbling, but continued to fight back against the weight of my emotions.

He began to mumble again, though it was quite hard to understand from his frantic tone. "Stay calm, Leslie. Stay calm, Leslie." His nails began to dig forcefully into his skull, hands straining in a contorted grip. "Stay calm, Leslie. Stay calm, Leslie."

"Leslie, honey, you're going to hurt yourself," I pleaded, attempting to calm him without touch. As a final resort, I reached out to him again. This time, to my surprise, he seemed unfazed. With this encouragement, I reached toward his head, trying to pry his fingers from his scalp.

He stopped.

With his sudden ceasing, I paused in my efforts. My grip gave slack, and he removed his hands without my help, placing them at his sides. He turned to face me, fear completely lost from his cerulean irises; instead, they were replaced with hollow darkness. I blinked, hardly recognizing him.

He gripped my hand, causing my eyes to widen. As it tightened, I whimpered.

"Leslie, you're hurting me," I begged in an almost squeak.

His eyes narrowed as if angered by my words. His lips pulled into a dissatisfied frown, emanating his internal emotions. With this, he released me, allowing me to cradle my aching hand. I hissed in pain, surprised by his strength. Soon I began to calm, and I returned to my attempts to soothe him yet again. "Sweetie, please tell me what's going on. Why are you acting this way?"

He rose to his feet, standing straighter than his normal stance, albeit slightly hunched. Blue eyes shifted from mine toward the direction of my house. I stood, waving my hand to get his attention. "Leslie?"

To my surprise, he walked away, his form moving toward my home. As he passed by, he brushed against my shoulder, sending a chill up my spine. I could only watch as he walked. The way he held himself…that look in his eyes…it was so familiar.

I called to him, but he chose to ignore me. Attempting to follow him, I marched in his direction. Upon hearing my footfalls crunch atop the dried leaves, he stopped. His sudden move caused me to copy his action. I was afraid - afraid of him. This was so unlike the timid man that I had grown to know over the years; the one that I felt so protective over.

Strands of his stark blond, almost white, hair danced in the gentle breeze. Everything around us became eerily quiet. "Leslie?" I asked in an almost whisper.

With this, he turned his head, without moving his body, toward the sound of my voice. He seemed to linger, as if debating his next action, then returned it to his forward-facing position. With calculated steps, he continued forward, then disappeared.

I blanched, thinking that I had finally lost my mind.

* * *

**A/N: Extra chapter add-in.**

**As a birthday present from myself (even though it is_ my _birthday) to y'all, I give you a new chapter!**


	9. The Day It All Began

_(Chapter 8 – The Day It All Began)_

Leslie had left me, disappearing into nothingness. Once again, I was left to my own devices.

Though I didn't want to, I knew that I had to go inside my house; there was no other choice. With hesitant steps, I passed by the gated pin filled with oinking pigs and made my way to the open window. Crouching to peer inside, my suspicions were confirmed; the haunted stalked through my former living room with torches and guns in hand. Their beady, white eyes searched for anything that moved, hisses escaping from their decaying lips. The one closest to where I sat wore a clown mask, cracked enough to expose the rotting flesh underneath; in its hand, it held a shotgun.

I let out a disgruntled groan. I had no ammo and my only weapon was the small hand scythe I kept in my pocket; against torches, handguns, and a shotgun, this wouldn't end well. So, the only choice I had was to get creative and hope for the best. Once I saw the the masked zombie's back turned, I took a chance.

"Hey!" I called out. Immediately, I fled the scene and hid in one of the bushes near the side of the house.

Two of the haunted came climbing out the window at the sound of my voice. Slowly, they prowled in search of the noise; they split off – one going around the left side and the other towards me. With a plan of some sort (albeit a stupid one) in mind, I waited for its approach.

With cautious steps it neared my location. I held my scythe at the ready, grip tightened in anticipation for the attack. Once it was close enough, I whistled to gain its attention. The mangled head of the creature snapped in my direction and followed. I lunged from the bush, grabbing the head and repeatedly shoved my scythe through until the light of its eyes died out; the knife it held dropped to the ground. I picked it up and peered around the opposite corner toward the direction of the approaching haunted.

As it came closer, it let out a hiss; a hand gun was gripped in its right hand. Wasting no time, I dived back for the cover of the shrub and hoped that I could recreate the same result as the one prior. It rounded the corner into my field of view. Upon sight of its fallen comrade, its head zipped back and forth in search of the culprit.

_Please don't come this way._

Unfortunately, it did.

From behind the bush, I could see a pair of legs moving in my direction. My breathing stopped, hand clenching onto the hem of my dress. The creature stopped only inches from where I sat. Guttural growls alerted me of its suspicion. All I could do was wait and hope that it wouldn't spot me in my hideout. Beads of chilled sweat trickled down my back.

_Just go_.

The time passed far too slowly before it turned on its heels and walked out toward the pen of pigs. With the opportunity presented, I crawled out from the shrub and followed. Once close enough, I latched an arm around its neck and stabbed the knife through; with a shriek, it fell limp to the dirt.

I let out the breath I had been holding and dug through its filthy pockets for ammo, which I was pleased to find. Just for good measure, I pried the handgun from its hand and stuffed it in my pocket; with the craziness of this place, I knew it was better to be safe than sorry. Taking my time, I reloaded my gun.

A cold hand wrapped around my ankle, nails digging into my skin.

I let out a cry of pain. The haunted at my feet bellowed a howl of rage while it clawed in desperation. With a startled scream, I stomped its face in; blood and brain matter splattered in all directions – including on myself. The hand released me, causing me to fall on my back. Looking at the damage done, I let out a groan; my ankle was covered in deep scratches. Blood trickled down into my shoe. I would have to take care of the wounds later; for now, I needed to take care of the rest of the undead.

Without a second thought, I whipped out my gun and ran to the steps of my front porch. The rocking chair still creaking as the wind rocked it back and forth. With quiet steps, I approached the front door and twisted the rusted knob; the door opened, making a loud squeak as I pushed. My ears instantly made out the sounds of the haunted upstairs. Running on my memories of the place, I knew that there would probably be first aid supplies in the kitchen.

Once I made it, I rifled through the cabinets and drawers for anything that could help – unfortunately for me, I couldn't find much. The only thing that was even somewhat usable was a large dish towel to stop the bleeding. I ripped the cloth and tied it around my ankle in the hope that it would do the job.

_"Mama, can I go play outside?"_

I froze. A child's voice startled me from my work.

_"Did you finish making your bed?"_ a female voice, quite similar to my own asked in a somber, almost sleepy tone. I didn't even have to turn around to know who it belonged to. Shaking, I slowly turned around with widened eyes.

_"Yes, ma'am,"_ the tiny voice replied duly according to the requirements of her parents. It belonged to a little girl – the same which I had seen earlier in the barn. Her dress had changed into one of shorter length with sleeves that ended at her shoulders. With hands clasped behind her back, she stared in anticipation at her mother, who leaned against the kitchen counter, clutching her aching head. She popped a pill in her mouth and took a sip of the glass of water beside her.

It was her medication.

My mother. The resemblance between us was fascinating. She was much younger than me at this point in time, close to her mid-twenties; almost a decade difference. Her hair was cut to her jaw, hanging in loose waves. Though the spectral forms were colorless, I knew that her locks were an auburn hue like mine. Blunt bangs ended just above her furrowed eyebrows. She wore a dress similar to the one the child version of me wore but down to her ankles. Sewing was a hobby of hers, therefore sometimes limiting our varieties of fashion.

But her features were akin to my own. The same familial slender, pointed nose and oval face of the Dean side – my mother's side of the family. It made me gasp, confirming the words of those who used to make the comparison.

She let out a long sigh. _"I suppose you can,"_ she consented. However, this approval was short lived.

The door flew open. A tall man in his early thirties came storming in. The inhabitants jumped, along with me at his sudden appearance.

_"I want you both to stay inside today,"_ he ordered, walking in the direction of the living room in search of an unknown object.

My mother glared, her fist that still lay on the counter squeezing. Whether it was from concern or anger, I had yet to find out. She followed the man. When the little girl version of me attempted to copy Mom, she raised a hand, urging her to stay put.

However, being an unnoticed third-party in this scene, I did what I could not twenty-seven years ago. I followed behind. As I walked into the other room, however, the figures became blurred. Their voices were muffled, unable to distinguish their heated words. In confusion, I walked back toward the kitchen.

Little me stood in the dining area, her head bowed as she studied her feet. She knew that something troubling was happening, but attempted to shut out the disturbance. I could feel her anxiety. I knew this day quite well.

It was the day that my dad tried to kill Ruben and Laura.

I was just as helpless as myself as a child, unable to stop what was about to happen. In a fury, I kicked the folding table, knocking it and a few chairs over.

"Why didn't you do something?!" I screamed at the girl, trying to grab her but to no avail. My hands merely passed through her form as if it were vapor. With this I grew even more furious. "Why didn't you stop him?! None of this would have happened if you hadn't stayed!"

My dad came storming back in the room, my mother on his tail with a look of concern contorting her features.

_"No one leaves this house! You hear me?!"_ he bellowed before marching toward the the front door.

_"Tell me what's going on!"_ my mom demanded, grabbing him by the back of his overalls.

He turned around, anger painted across his features. A box of matches was clutched in the opposite the one that was gripped on the doorknob. _"Just let me take care of this,"_ he commanded, his voice softening with the fear in his wife's eyes.

"Don't do it!" I screamed.

_"Keep Alice in here. Neither of you go outside and everything will be fine."_

Mom stared into his eyes, hesitant about the situation. Finally, she let him go, allowing him to join the others to perform the deed which started a never-ending cycle of misery.

"Why did you let him go?!" I shouted at her form. She gazed ahead, unhearing.

I turned back to the door. "You did this! You brought this on us!"

_"Mama, where's Daddy going?"_ little me asked in a squeak, her eyes wide with fright. She bit her lip, hold a lock of long, red hair in her hand and twisting the strands around her fingers.

Mom looked as if she didn't know what to say. _"Go to your room, Alice,"_ she whispered.

The child did as her mother commanded, retreating upstairs to her bedroom. Her bare footsteps patted against the hard wood.

I barged up to my mother. I stood an inch taller, but just close enough to lock onto her unseeing eyes. "Why?! You never did anything to stop him! It's your fault! You let him ruin our lives! And for what?! Why didn't you stand up to him?!"

With nothing else to pour my distress into, I pounded my fist into the door. If not for the fact that she wasn't there to feel my wrath, I would have aimed for her. She deserved every bit of it.

"You let him do this to you! Mothers are supposed to be there for their kids, and you left me! You hurt me because you couldn't take the pain! Well, I couldn't take it either, Mom! I needed you to be a mother for me! Was that too much to ask?!"

But my ranting soon came to an end. High pitched squeals and the clanking of chains erupted from behind the front door. My eyes widened as I jumped back in surprise. The apparitions vanished.

_Bang_

The door shook against the brute force of the creature.

_Bang_

There was no time to run upstairs. I had to hide.

_Bang_

The lock was breaking. I scrambled to an empty dresser and shut myself inside.

**_Bang_**

The front door burst open as the pig head-wearing creature rammed its way through. Metal hooks scraped against the hard wood floor with each heavy footstep, chains jingling. Only the flickering glow of the flames in the fireplace gave me visibility through the crack of the dresser door. The beast's elongated shadow appeared and disappeared on the wall in front of me as it stalked the lower level of the house. Heavy, almost dog-like, panting echoed. It let out a roar of rage at my absence.

I covered my mouth to stifle my own erratic breath with shaking hands. This creature had chased me before while in the hospital, but this time there was no vent to save the day. All I could do was wait and hope that it would give up its search.

On the other side of the door, I could hear shattering glass and the smashing of wood. It continued to bellow a mix of squeals and howls while it seemed to destroy everything in sight. Clawed hooks scraped at the walls, followed by stomping footsteps.

It was getting closer.

I stopped breathing, heart pounding in my ears. A black figure snuffed out the light of the fire through the crack. It was standing right in front of me. With angry snorts, it turned from side to side, scanning the entire room. Hooks went flying with the motion, forcing the dresser door completely closed. It let out a snarl.

The wardrobe groaned in protest before it and I were sent falling face down on the floor. Fortunately for me, the beast was scrambling up the stairs before it could hear me let out a quiet, "oomph." Footsteps grew quieter before I finally knew that it was in a more distant part of the house, continuing its destruction.

There was nothing but pitch black darkness. Panic was setting in.

I attempted to push the dresser on its side, but to no avail. Guns fired. The haunted upstairs squealed while the beast howled. In a fit of frustration, I turned over and kicked at the backside of the wardrobe. Repeatedly, I pushed and kicked as hard as I could, praying that I would make it out before the creature came back to check my hiding spot.

"C'mon!" I groaned.

Finally, the wooden back snapped as my feet rammed into it. I continued to kick until there was a hole big enough for me to fit through.

Then the smashing upstairs stopped.

I quickly climbed out and attempted to sneak toward the, now doorless, front door. The beast descended the stairs, right on my tail. I bolted outside and headed straight for the side of the house to hide. Heavy panting, pounding footsteps, and squeals followed behind. There was nowhere to go.

I would have to fight.

Turning around, I fired all I had at the creature's head but it remained unfazed. It charged, and I dived out of the way onto my side. Scrambling to get up, I continued to run and shoot, but to no avail; it refused to give up its chase.

"What do you want from me?!" I yelled.

I ran back inside the house and up the stairs. At the head of them, I found the masked haunted with shotgun still in hand. In a desperate attempt, I pried it from his fingers and fired as the beast barreled towards me. For a moment it stopped, finally affected by the bullets. I continued to fire until I ran out of shells, but still it wouldn't give up.

In the room at the end of the hall, I saw a flickering light. Praying for a miracle, I ran towards. The dead zombie lay decapitated on the ground, a torch just out of its reach. I picked it up, turned around, and swung. The pig-headed beast shrieked, clutching its head. Violently shaking, it writhed in agony before turning tail and running back down the stairs and out the door.

"That's right. You better run," I snapped back before grabbing my aching head. (I know, not cliché at all.) I wiped the sweat that had begun to cloud my vision and gently rubbed the back of my neck.

I took one last look back toward the room I had just been in, eyes growing wide in realization. Immediately, I turned back around and walked inside. The blue paint still clung to the walls, now faded and chipping in places. My little twin-sized bed still sat in the corner unmade, just as it was the morning that my father told me to pack my things to leave. Clothes were thrown around carelessly as my mother and I decided what to bring and what not to bring. The dresser containing them was left open, revealing my little shoes and dresses that were left behind.

But one item in particular caught my attention. On my nightstand was a sunflower, dried from age. However, to my surprise, the petals still clung on after all this time. I dared to pick it up and study it under the light of the moon, twisting the stem in between my fingers. Though I had no exact memory of when I was given this flower, I knew exactly who it came from. Just the thought of him drove me mad. Anger mixed with bitter sadness seemed to envelope me.

But I refused to let him reign over me any longer.

I looked down to my hand and found the sunflower crushed in my palm. As I tilted my hand, the dust trickled to the ground in a small heap on the grimy, wooden floor. I let out a sigh, the chains of both regret and intense anger binding me to that place. The unbearable weight felt as if it were crushing me. A tear fell, trailing down the contours of my cheek and dripping onto the floor below. And I wondered, could I really hate him? No. But could I forgive him?...

With this question in mind, I walked away.

* * *

**A/N: Revised.**


	10. This House Has Worlds Inside Its Walls

_Chapter 8 – Here We Go Again_

God, I really needed a cigarette. Already, the withdrawals were kicking in – made worse by the amount of emotional trauma I had experienced in just the past few hours. My head was pounding to the point where it was becoming disorienting. Fatigued, I stumbled down the steps of my front porch.

The wind blew my auburn hair into my face and it seemed that no matter what I did it couldn't be helped. I angrily spat out the strands that had worked their way into my mouth, the taste of blood on my tongue from where it had splattered. I was frustrated, exhausted physically and emotionally – in other words, I was a complete wreck. My uniform was forever destroyed, soaked with blood, sweat, and other bodily fluids. Holes and tears dotted the hem; to my chagrin, some were even in not-so-decent places. With my shotgun strapped to my back and various other weapons protruding from my pockets, I was the picture of a post-apocalyptic survivor.

Struggling to keep going, I trudged on through the muck of the front yard toward the road that I knew should have close by.

Visions overtook me. No matter what I did, it seemed as though he couldn't escape my thoughts. I would have given anything to just forget, but he wouldn't leave. Like a parasite, he remained to suck the life out of me. I dreaded his return, which I knew was inevitable. Silver eyes flashed through my mind like a sudden bolt of lightening in a pitch black sky. I shook my head, biting my lip as I refused to let him in.

_Images of the barn appeared before my eyes. Sunflowers. A large mansion. A little girl with pigtails hugging a young boy of significantly greater height. A fire. Screaming. The barn burned while the boy cries for his dying sister._

"Stop it!" I shouted while clutching my head, doubled over in agony.

After the pain had eased, my eyes fluttered open to find a whole new world. I was on a dirt path surrounded by gigantic trees. A rod iron gate closed behind me, squeaking as it did. I jumped at the sudden sound, letting out a squeak of my own. As I turned around, I discovered that I was in fact alone. "Where am I?" I whispered as I searched for some clue to my whereabouts. With nothing to help, I began to walk forward; luckily for me, it wasn't a minute later that I finally heard a familiar voice.

"Hey! Alice!" I heard a male call from behind me.

I spun around to find the detective running up to meet me.

"S-Sebastian?" I wrung my hands, knowing that Ruvik wouldn't want me around the others. "Where did you come from?" I asked.

His pace slowed. "It's a long story. Where have you been?" he asked upon reaching me.

My hand went to the back of my neck to scratch it, eyes darting away in an attempt to dodge his question. "It's a long story," I replied with a meek smile.

He eyed me carefully, but nodded in understanding. "Well, you're safe. That's all that matters."

I nodded, still unable to look at him directly. "Do you know where we are?"

"Not a clue. Let's have a look around." He held his gun at the ready and walked toward a light to the right of where we stood. The two of us searched the area and found stone ruins. Wooden barrels and crates lined the section still containing a wall. We halved the ammunition that we found and continued on down the pathway.

The further we walked, the more foreboding the place became. The trees loomed over us as if warning of our impending doom, yet beckoning us to continue towards it – ever watching. In the distance, I made out a wrought iron gate between two stone walls. I furrowed my brow and crinkled my nose as memories of my childhood flashed before my eyes once more.

Sebastian was the first to enter, pushing the gate open to allow us access to the other side. "Wait. I've seen this house before. What is this place?" he asked to no one in particular.

"The Victoriano Estate," I replied dully as I followed behind, sickened that now I would have to be inside of Ruvik's own home – or former home. I though it strange to see the place, I had heard that it burned down.

"You've been here before?" he asked, surprise and suspicion not-so-subtly lacing his voice.

"Only a few times," I answered. "Only when his parents weren't home."

Sebastian suddenly stopped and turned around to face me, eyes widened as he searched me for answers. "Him? You mean…You _knew_ that Ruvik guy?"

I shrank under his intense amber stare. Even under the circumstances, I found myself gushing over how handsome he was. "He used to be my best friend," I replied curtly. Leaving the detective to stare blankly behind me, I continued forward without him.

"Hold on," he called. "_What_?" He grabbed my shoulder to spin me around, but I shrugged it off and pushed his hand away.

For the detective's benefit, I stopped and turned around to face him. "Unforeseen circumstances separated us when we were young. I haven't seen or heard from him until this point."

Ever so slightly, he turned his head to the side as he contemplated the words with narrowed eyes. "You've been with him, haven't you? Do you know what he wants from us?"

"No," I answered. "All I know is that he's pissed about Dr. Jimenez betraying him. What he did to him and what all that entails, I don't know."

Detective Castellanos seemed to accept this as a decent answer. "C'mon," he instructed, waving for me to follow behind. "Stay close."

As my eyes gazed over gigantic mansion, I found myself in awe of its magnificence. A pathway led to a round courtyard with an intricately detailed fountain in the center – no longer in working condition. Vines wrapped around it in a tight embrace, disguising the beauty I knew to be underneath. The mansion itself was enormous, looming off in the distance like a bad omen. Two large columns marked the entrance to the decrepit, Edwardian style mansion, both cracked and enveloped with ivy. Dead and dying trees surrounded the place; the beautiful garden I once knew had overgrown from lack of care. Having always admired it, almost saddened me to see it in such a state.

"It's strange, I've never been here before but…," Sebastian whispered.

"Yeah," I answered back, knowing what he meant. The pull from the mansion was strong.

We walked toward the front entrance and opened the enormous doors. The inside was just as eerily beautiful as the outside. A marble floor gleamed under the dim light of the candles. A set of stairs led up to the second story balcony, lined with hardwood. Two vases sat underneath them on the back wall next to a set of elaborate, mechanical-looking doors.

"Hey!" Sebastian called out suddenly. "Stop!" Up ahead the doctor and Leslie walked through the foyer through a set of double doors located under the stairs, but the detective's pleas were futile; the doors slammed behind them. He walked up and attempted to open them, but to no avail.

"Great," I muttered angrily. "Now what?" I crossed my arms, fingers tapping over them.

"I guess now we have a look around." Sebastian continued toward the door to our left, shoes clacking against the hard floor. We walked to the dining room. A large table sat in the center, surrounded by cushioned chairs and draped with a white table cloth. A china cabinet filled with china stood at the far end of the room.

Hissing came from the area to our right.

"You heard that, right?" I asked with my gun aimed toward the direction of the noise.

Sebastian grunted in recognition and moved into the pantry area. He crouched and peered around the doorframe to the other side to find a haunted with his back turned with a knife in hand and a bomb placed on the wall. He turned to me and placed a finger over his lips for me to stay quiet, pulling out the knife he kept in his belt. "Stay down," he mouthed. Sneaking up behind it, he reached his arm around the neck and stabbed it in the head.

With that one down, he took the risk of deactivating the bomb. I watched from afar as he did his handiwork, aligning the spinner within the the thin, blue area. Once the deed was done, he took the necessary parts from it and placed them on his person for later use. He waved me over.

I did as I was instructed and crouched beside him, his head pointing toward the direction of the kitchen.

"There's two more in there," he said with a frown. "And another bomb."

I saw as two of the haunted were devouring a corpse, tearing bits of flesh away with their claw like fingers. "We can take them easy," I replied in confusion. He looked back at me with uncertainty. "Trust me, my aim has gotten much better since we last met, Sebastian," I drawled as I rolled my eyes.

He nodded and charged forward, taking out the one nearest to where we stood as it attempted to attack. True to my word, I came up behind and took out the last one with a headshot (albeit it was just a lucky shot.) He crawled to the other side of the antique kitchen to disarm the bomb, taking the parts just as he had before. I walked toward the room off of the far wall. Metal shelves lined the walls with various tools and equipment. A light in the far corner beckoned me forward, leading me to a desk with a severed head along with terrifying looking machines. I yelped, which urged the detective to follow after.

"What is it?" he questioned, gun ready to fire at anything that he deemed a threat. Upon seeing me alone, he lowered the weapon and moved to see what had caused such a reaction. His face contorted into a look of utter disgust.

"What is this thing?" I asked him, fighting to not gag.

"No clue," he replied before pressing buttons to see what would happen. A metal, arm-like mechanism emerged from its resting position and maneuvered itself in front of the severed head. A woman's voice begging for her captor to stop as she struggled played on the tape recorder on the desk.

_"Subject Number 58. Test 92A. Electrode placement in M-33 pain region, ineffective. Anticipate greater results with stimulation of section F-7, the "consent" region of the neocortex,"_ the voice of Ruvik spoke. Upon hearing him, my fists tightened at my sides.

The woman shouted and screamed, begging to be released before a distinct squish silenced her cries. I closed my eyes, trying not to imagine what was done to her.

_"Subject imprint only partially successful. Individual personality traits still linger,"_ he replied unhappily before a click alerted us of the recording's end.

Sebastian looked to the paper to his left, studying the area Ruvik had specified. With a grimace, he grabbed onto the metal arm, placing it over the desired location of the severed head. "Here goes nothing," he said with palpable uncertainty. A needle-like object was injected into the area, blood oozing out around the newly made puncture. A beep followed by a stream of red liquid that traveled through the clear tube and into the wall alerted us of his success.

"Great. What did I just set in motion?" Sebastian muttered under his breath.

_"Is this what you call your inner sanctum? A research lab of your own, I am most impressed,"_ a male voice said.

The suddenness of apparition's voice startled the detective and me. Our eyes widened as we realized the man who had just spoken was Dr. Jimenez, albeit a much younger version of him. He looked about the room with keen interest.

_"Why are you back? I didn't give you permission,"_ a young Ruben replied, unsure of the man's intentions.

"Come now, we're both men of science. Men of science are dedicated to the pursuit of knowledge. You can show me your experiments, I can show you things." He pointed toward the boy with a smile for emphasis.

The boy stepped forward motioning towards the doctor. _"You wouldn't like them. You'd think they're gross."_

_"In science, one must do any number of things a lay person may find…disgusting. I've done things that others would consider…distasteful."_ Jimenez turned away, a look of resentment on his less wrinkled face.

_"You think…I'm some kind of a monster."_ Ruben motioned to himself and looked down at his feet in shame.

The doctor sighed, returning his eyes back to the boy's. _"You concern yourself so much with your appearance_." He bent down to his level and pointed to his head with another smile. _"But that mind of yours - that's all that matters."_

"That's Marcelo," Sebastian suddenly spoke. "Is that Ruvik with him?" He turned to me for confirmation.

I nodded, shifting my gaze to my feet and wrapping my arms around myself. Seeing the boy again hurt; it served as a reminder of the innocence he lost and the maniac he had become. Conflicting emotions resurfaced once again as we walked back the way we came.

Sebastian noticed my change in demeanor, eyeing me carefully. "What is it?" he asked.

"It just hurts…to know who he used to be and see who he's become," I whispered. "He wasn't always this way."

The detective chose not to respond, though I never expected him to. He never knew him like I did, only what he was then. He gave a soft grunt, alerting me that he understood. A mechanical clanking and hissing came from beyond the dining room. "Do you hear that?" he asked me.

"Yeah," I replied with a concerned glance in his direction. We darted out the door and found that the red liquid had traveled from the "inner sanctum" into the a container attached to the metal doors in the foyer. Cogs spun as the machine was beginning to run. I raised a brow at the other two empty containers.

"So we need to fill the others with that red liquid," Sebastian spoke, echoing my thoughts.

"That's what I'm guessing." I studied the pipes that led to different areas of the house. "This way," I called as I ran up the stairs to follow one.

We walked through the doorway to our left into the library, where mountains of books surrounded us on dusty shelves. In the center of the rotunda sat a desk, books and papers piled high on top; a typewriter stocked with paper waited to be used. The dead roamed amongst the shelves with weapons ready to kill. Quickly, the detective and I got to work disposing of them. I attempted to follow in Sebastian's footsteps and stealthily take the one closest to us, tiptoeing closer with knife in hand. The creature growled deep within its throat while it stood unaware of my approach. I snaked a hand around its rotting throat and jabbed the knife into its skull, blood oozing from the wound. I couldn't help but grin at the fact that I had actually done it.

Sebastian circled his way around to the ladder that led to the top level and ascended. Once on his feet again, he spotted the haunted on the other side. I watched, hoping to God that he would get the job done without being injured. The creature spun around at just the right (or wrong in Sebastian's case) moment, and pointed with a gangly finger in the detective's direction. He muttered a curse and stood to his full height once again, pulling the gun from his belt. I whipped my own out and held it to fire. Luckily, the detective took the haunted out with a single headshot; brain matter flew in all directions. I let out a sigh of relief.

He moved his way toward the lone painting, the bottom half missing. A metal box underneath the frame caught his eye. Reaching to open it, he pulled out a knob. "Is this a dial?" he asked as he inspected it.

"Let me see," I called.

He descended the ladder and held the object towards me. I took it and observed the markings along the edges. "We better keep this," I said while handing it back to him. He placed the dial into his pocket. "This will probably come in handy for something really important."

We continued toward the next door that we came across. Sebastian carefully cracked it, allowing us to peek through to the other side. More haunted hunched over a corpse, devouring the flesh. "One of them will spot us if we try to take them out one at a time," he said with a furrowed brow of concentration.

"So, we go in there guns blazing?" I asked, preparing mine for the attack.

"If you say so," he replied.

The detective kicked open the door, and fired away. I came in behind and took out the other, this time not as conservatively as I would have liked with my ammunition. Their corpses now joined the one that they had been feasting upon.

"C'mon," Sebastian instructed.

We found ourselves down a narrow hallway lined with only a couple of doors. I let out a disapproving grunt as memories of the place revealed themselves to me. "I remember this place. These are their rooms," I said to myself, eyes darting to each one with mistrust. A pang of sadness overtook me while looking at Laura's old room.

"They?" he asked.

"You know…Ruvik and Laura," I replied, turning away from the sight.

Sebastian's mouth formed a thin line while he contemplated on what to do. He scratched his chin. "I think we should go inside. Just to see if there's anything useful."

I nodded and followed as he slowly opened the door nearest to us. The room was decaying, but remained trapped in another time. A perfectly made, four poster bed sat in the corner; at it's feet was a desk with various notes and books. Out of curiosity, I observed the state of the room compared to when I had last been inside while Sebastian rummaged through a set of shelves – it remained almost exactly how it had been around twenty-seven years ago.

On the other side of the bed, I noticed a chair sitting in the very corner; a sheet of paper rested on the seat. With a shaking hand, I picked up the piece of paper and read the words scrawled upon it.

I saw her there again, standing at the end of the hallway. Long black hair, beautiful as ever, streaked with moonlight, eyes dark pools in her porcelain face. She wore her favorite red dress, like a crimson sunset. Like a streak of blood in the waning light. Laura, of course you couldn't be dead.

I bit my lip and passed the note to Sebastian, not wanting to look at it any longer than I had to. He took it from me and quickly skimmed before placing it in his pocket. "Let's go," he said, ushering me into the next room over.

We passed through the open doorway that connected the two rooms and had a look around. It too seemed trapped in time, but starkly contrasted with Ruvik's. The room was brightly colored, cheery even, whereas Ruvik's had been dark and decayed. I folded my arms and walked behind the detective while he inspected every crevice for something that could help. It was hard to look.

The door that led back out into the hallway burst open, a haunted ramming its way through. We jumped, however Sebastian blew its head to pieces with two shots and returned to his digging. "Nothing but matches," he sighed before shutting the drawer. His jaw tightened as he stuffed the matches on his person. "And we're running low on ammo."

I chewed on my lip, fearing that we wouldn't find any.

"So, I guess we keep going," he replied before turning on his heels to walk out the door. I followed behind. "You okay?" he asked.

"Yeah," I muttered. "I'm fine." I readied my weapon.

Further down the hall, we turned the corner to find a small sitting area across from the bathroom. "I've never been down this part of the house," I explained to him. "They were never allowed to go to the end of the hall. It was off limits."

Sebastian grunted, continuing forward. Suddenly, the gigantic double doors behind us opened, a claw-like device grabbing his ankle and knocking him to the ground. The detective muttered a curse as it began to drag him into rotating spikes, ready to chop him into tiny pieces. Panicking, I fired at the device, hoping that something would make it stop. The detective too pulled out his pistol and shot the machine, but to no avail. Just as he was about to be shredded, I aimed for the red light, finding that to be the answer. Groaning, he rose to his feet and nodded a thanks in my direction.

Continuing where we left off, we made our way down the corridor to a door at the very end. The room was empty, save for an enormous four poster bed, a dresser, a writing desk, and a huge fireplace that extended deep within the wall. "I wonder what's in there," I whispered, getting on my hands and knees to crawl inside. After checking everything in the room, the detective followed me inside. Soot and ashes littered the metal floor, turning our hands and knees black. To my chagrin, cobwebs clung to my face, causing to spit in a very unattractive way to remove the silky threads from my lips; Sebastian, on the other hand, was spared from my fate due to me taking all of them for him. Once on the other side, we discovered a set up similar to what had been in the inner sanctum. A severed head sat, once again, exposing part of the brain. A strange machine stood behind, waiting to be used.

"This again?" the detective groaned. I allowed him to pass in front of me, not wanting to be anywhere near the thing. I watched as he got to work, the tape recorder began to play.

"Subject Number 12. Test 71B. Electrode Placement A-2." A man whimpered in the background. "Stimulation of amygdalae, seat of emotion and memory allocation; the fear center of the brain." The man continued to whimper before crying out as a squish erupted through the speaker. "Subject feels as I do. But this vessel is far to weak to withstand the psychological weight I myself bear daily." With that, the recording ended with a familiar click.

I shuddered as Sebastian began to do his work, moving the arm into the right position to inject the needle in the brain. A beep alerted us of his success. The machine roared to life as the red liquid pumped through the tubing. "Okay, that's done," he said with a sigh before turning around to head back toward the tunnel.

We crawled through the soot, stopping as an all too familiar voice echoed from the other side. A shaky exhale escaped his lips as the apparition stood hunched over his deceased parents, knife in hand. The detective stepped out first, and I quickly followed behind.

_"Oh father…Did you actually think if you locked me away, I would just cease to exist? "Out of sight, out of mind?""_ His voice shook with a number of emotions. I timidly approached, hand covering my mouth at the sight. _"You did…You did, didn't you. Well you were never out of my mind. I hope you're proud of yourselves."_ He released another trembling sigh before disappearing, leaving the corpses of Ernesto and Beatriz behind to rot at the foot of the bed.

I bit my lip, drawing blood as I fought to keep tears from welling in my eyes. I sniffed and turned away toward the door, quickly walking out and away from the detective.

"Alice!" he called from behind, rushing to find me. I stopped just outside of the door, staring into black space. My fists tightened, nails digging into my palms. No matter what I did, it seemed that I couldn't stop the tears from coming. Ruvik's words to me when we first spoke after twenty-seven years of separation echoed through my mind.

_"…he locked me in the basement for six years. Even going so far as to keep me a secret from my mother because he was too ashamed of the disfigurements..."_

I angrily wiped them away, not allowing myself to cry. Sebastian stood behind, unsure of what to do. He gently placed a comforting hand on my shoulder, just letting me know that he was there. There was nothing to say, nothing that would make it easier. "He killed my parents," I whispered to the detective. I sniffed. "Why does it still hurt to know what he suffered?" I turned to face him, almost expecting him to answer. He could only shake his head, concern painting his features.

"I don't know, Alice," he replied.

I looked down at my feet. "I wanted to believe there's just a shred of good still in there. That the boy I knew is still there, just hidden under years of hate. But I know it's all gone." I shook my head. "He's gone." My eyes continued to stare just ahead, not really at the detective though he was in my line of sight.

Sebastian gently squeezed my shoulder, giving me the most understanding look he could muster. "We should go," he reminded softly. I nodded as we turned to continue down the length of the hallway. A painting of a young girl pointed to our left, urging us to continue forward. Passing corpses along our way, we found a door at the very end.

Suddenly, it burst open, revealing Ruvik standing on the other side. Face dour and downcast, he stalked up to me. Sebastian whipped out his gun and began firing, but to no avail. Silver eyes momentarily glanced in his direction with distain before landing on me. I backed into the wall, knowing that no matter how much I fought back it would do no good. A marred hand reached out and grabbed the collar of my dress.

"Alice!" Sebastian called out before we were transported into another area of the house.

Ruvik's hand dropped from my collar, I fell onto the ground with an "oomph."

"Just leave me alone," I snapped, hands pressing into the ground to support myself. Unfortunately for me, I received no response from him; he only continued to stare back just as before – unaffected. "Ruvik, go away!" I shouted.

His brows furrowed, eyes narrowing. "You think that I am the one at fault." He stated it as though it intrigued him, ever so slightly turning his head to the side. "But you're wrong."

My jaw tightened as I stood back up. I readjusted my uniform, pulling it further down my legs to keep from revealing anything I wouldn't want to. It took all I had to not start screaming at him. "And why shouldn't I? We wouldn't be here if it wasn't for you." I poked a finger in his direction. "I trusted you and you betrayed me."

He scoffed. "You know nothing of betrayal," he spat.

"Oh, I don't?" My voice began to grow shaky, eyes threatening to fill with tears that I refused to release. "I came to you thinking that you were just the innocent victim of my father's hatred for your family." My gaze shifted down to my feet as I let out a heavy, grief-stricken sigh. "You act as if you care for me, but if you did….you…you would have let them live." It came out in a whisper.

The corner of his mouth twitched in what appeared to be a frown. He allowed a brief moment of silence to hang between us while he studied my reaction. "Do you know where you are, Ali?" he suddenly questioned.

I looked back up at him quizzically, thinking this was his attempt to dodge my questions. I crossed my arms, raising a brow. "You said that this is a world that you created – whatever that means."

"I told you of my research before Jimenez's betrayal. It's known as STEM – in short, a machine that links minds together in order to create a shared plane of consciousness. However, it is only functional when I am connected. When Mobius gained control, they defiled it." He frowned. "The device is now a perversion of my own. What it should have been."

I cocked my head to the side as I tried to comprehend what he was saying. "So,…what you're saying is that we're connected to you? Like inside of your head?"

He raised his arms from his sides to gesture to our environment. "Everything that you see is a blend of each person's consciousness that has been linked to STEM – including yours."

My eyes widened, façade falling for a brief moment. "…I'm contributing to this craziness too?"

"In a way," he replied with a nod.

I shifted uncomfortably, eyes darting away briefly. Something about hearing the words had me feeling completely exposed. "How do we get out?"

"The boy…Leslie. He is the key." He pointed a finger in the air for emphasis, slowly pacing around me. "So long as he makes it to the beacon, we can escape."

Once again, I found myself completely lost. "Leslie? What's so special about him?"

"That's not what matters," he curtly replied.

His hesitation to answer me caused me to frown in anger. "It does," I barked back.

He stopped in front of me, hands behind his back. "I've found that he and I are compatible. With that, I plan on escaping through him."

I raised a brow. "Through? What do you mean?"

"I no longer have a body, therefore I plan on using the boy's as a conduit."

"What?" My eyes once more grew wide. "Wait, how can you not have a body?"

"It was taken from me. Mobius – the organization that expressed interest in my work – found my methods "unsuitable." And in the end, I was only pawn. Easily expendable. They picked and prodded, tearing away at me bit by bit. And I was aware of it all as they severed each nerve. Flesh from bone. My husk of a body gone, left with nothing but a brain."

I shook my head, cringing at his morbid description of his own death. With all that I had, I pushed down any unwanted emotion that threatened to break through. Instead, I projected the anger that was so prevalent inside. "This changes nothing between us," I whispered. "I've run out of pity for you, Ruvik."

He leaned in close until his face was merely inches from mine. "Your pity is not what I desire."

My eyes narrowed as I leaned in even closer to him, his breath gently sweeping my face. I locked my eyes onto his, attempting to show that I wasn't afraid. My nostrils flared. "I hoped that there was still a man behind the monster, but it appears I was wrong." I stood up taller, tensing under his sharp gaze. "What happens to Leslie once you take over him?"

To my chagrin, he didn't back down; however, I refused to either. "He remains," he drawled, "however I will be the one in control."

"Two people in one body…," I stated.

He gave a slow nod in return.

"And then what?"

His hollow eyes bored into mine, angered disappointment painted on his face. "I had hoped that you would be by my side willingly, Ali. But it appears that I was wrong."

It was my turn to scoff. "Oh, you ruined any chance of that, buddy," I spat bitterly, tempted to poke a finger to his scarred chest.

He grew more somber, an sadistic gleam flashed in his silvery eyes. He drew in even closer, his lips so close to mine. "In that case, I suppose I will have to use other methods…"

I furrowed my brows. "What do you mean?" I asked.

He vanished.

"You've got to be kidding me," I grumbled, pounding a fist against the wall behind me.

To say that his mind games were tiresome was an understatement…

* * *

**Phew! That was long. ^^ (I couldn't really check for mistakes or anything like that because I've only got a few minutes to post this, so hopefully it's okay ^^;) Okay, so thank you to those who favorited, followed, and reviewed! Y'all are the bomb!**

**Pearl, I couldn't send you a PM thanking you, so I'll do it here. :D Here's that update!**

**Enjoy!**


	11. Laura

_Chapter 9 - Laura_

**A/N: Thank you for all of the favorites, follows, and reviews! **

**Pearl: Thank you so much! :D Hearing that makes me feel better. ^^; I'm always concerned that I'm making them OOC...Hopefully, that's not the case this chapter. ^^**

**BTW, I drew myself a picture (because I'm a total nerdy fangirl) for my story...Because I needed a new reference for Alice, I chose Julie Mcniven. :) Literally, I was watching Supernatural and I saw her and I just paused it. Then, I was like "That's her!" ^^ So, I'm extremely happy.**

**Here it is on deviantART: art/Down-the-Rabbit-Hole-524102092**

**ALSO: (another moment of self promotion) I'm writing a new story called 'Everybody Wants To Rule The World', which I've been working on since December. So...you should check it out. I guess. If you want. It's not like I'm holding a knife to your throat or anything and saying, "do it now."**

**So, on with the chapter!**

* * *

I spoke to my therapist again today, just like every other Friday, however I chose to come clean about what really happened. I know I shouldn't have…I probably just put his life in danger right along with mine; either way, he didn't seem to take it too seriously. That's probably for the best…If Mobius found out, I don't even want to know what they would do.

I'm terrified. There are people that have been snooping around my apartment while I'm gone – I'm sure of it. I come home and something doesn't feel right, like I'm not alone. They're looking for something…someone, maybe? I don't know.

I think I'm going to have to run.

* * *

After yet another moment of 'potentially finding some sort of companionship' ripped from me by Ruvik, I wasn't at all willing to stick around. I was in a never-ending hallway lined with doors on all sides; the sight was making me disoriented as it seemed to stretch and shrink in the distance. Metal scraped against metal behind me. Spinning around, I was greeted by the detective who looked visibly relieved upon seeing me.

"Thank God," he sighed, running to catch up to me. "Are you alright? What happened to you?"

"Ruvik," I replied dully. "I'm fine, though." I hugged my arms around myself.

He nodded. "Good."

"So, you got that last one filled without me, I see," I said with a smirk. He returned a small grin with a breath of a chuckle.

"C'mon, we should get going." He momentarily placed a hand on my shoulder, causing an intense heat to flood my cheeks and creep up the back of my neck. I looked down at my feet and bit my lip to hide an embarassed smile. He brushed past me to walk in front, allowing me to feel just how sweat drenched he was too. In that moment, I decided the first thing I would do once I got out of STEM was get a shower.

"So, Ruvik told me some things about what's going on," I relayed, while following behind.

Despite having his back turned, I could see him tense at my mentioning our meeting. He reminded me of a cat with the fur of its back bristled. "What sort of things?" he asked.

I unfolded my hands, prepared to get into a lengthy explanation over what was divulged to me. "From what I gathered, he said that we're all connected to this machine that – "

Sebastian just stopped.

"What's wrong?" I asked, growing concerned that maybe he spotted something up ahead. My brows furrowed. He clutched his head, doubling over in agony and letting out a groan. "Sebastian, talk to me," I called. I didn't know what to do. Hesitantly, I raised a hand to reach for his shoulder, but stopped as soon as he began to slowly turn around. Red, throbbing veins bulged from his face. His once amber eyes were now a pale shade of grey, the whites of his eyes had turned a deep red hue. Blood trickled from them, some even dripping down his chin. His tanned skin was now ashy, almost decaying in appearance. Glowing, puss filled sacs grew, protruding from the veins. He growled, a deranged smile plastered across his face as he let out a maniacal laugh.

**"You should have listened, Ali,"** he growled.

I pulled out my gun, eyes wide and almost paralyzed with fear. Taking steps back, I aimed at him with shaky hands. He pulled out his shotgun. "Sebastian, **stop**!" I shouted. "Don't make me do this!"

**"Oh, it's too late for that. You should never have though you could trust us, and now you'll have to pay for that mistake."** He aimed straight for my head.

I fired at his leg.

He bellowed a cry of pain, cursing me as he clutched his leg. I stood there, wide eyed – completely in shock that I had actually done it. My hands continued to shake, heart racing as the adrenaline coursed through my veins. He raised his gun again.

I ran, pushing him into the wall as I dashed past; he let out a gruff "oomph." I just kept sprinting, hoping that he wouldn't shoot. Suddenly, Ruvik appeared further down the hallway -waiting for my approach. I slowed my pace, head dashing in the direction of each man that I stood between.

I had a choice to make, and it definitely wasn't an easy one. Do I continue running and accept Ruvik's help, or turn around and face Sebastian? I took one last look behind me – the shotgun was raised, ready to fire at any second. At that moment, I found myself running to Ruvik, arms wide open as if I were about to embrace him. We collided.

The gun fired.

I braced myself, expecting to feel an explosion of pain rip through me…but was met with only silence. My green eyes opened to find myself still clinging to Ruvik. He looked down at me with a hint of a satisfactory smile upon his lips. My head was pressed against his scarred chest, cold as ice. Still shaking, I pushed myself away from him. Too ashamed to even take a glance, I looked at the floor. As far as I could see, he had transported us to another place. The hall of doors was completely gone, replaced by a cement room. The deranged detective was no longer standing behind me threatening to kill me. My lips parted as I tried to find the words to say.

"I suppose I should thank you for that," I said while still staring at the ground.

He didn't respond. I hugged my arms around myself and let out a long sigh through my nostrils. He only continued to stare back, smile completely faded into his usual glower. I cleared my throat uncomfortably. With the silence becoming too much for me, I searched for something to say.

"Look,…Ruvik…," I began, but couldn't finish.

"They're not to be trusted," he said. "I've warned you before. As long as they are here, they are susceptible to corruption."

"I know," I whispered. I bit my lip and turned to face him full on. For a brief moment, we just stared at each other awkwardly. Relief slowly morphed into anger at all the pain he had caused me. My brows furrowed, trying to display my sincerity. "But like I said before, this changes nothing between us."

He merely stood there.

I gulped, questions coming to mind. I was beginning to question my own ability to maintain any sort of control in this world. "So, am I capable? Of turning into…that?" I whispered, eyes looking away uncomfortably.

He stiffened slightly. "Yes, however I'm preventing that from happening."

I gave an emotionless laugh. A small smile formed at my lips. "I guess that's two things that I should thank you for, then."

With that, he turned, walking toward the door on the other side of the room. I knew he was waiting for me to say something. If he truly wanted to leave, he could have just disappeared on sight.

"Wait." The word came out of me almost involuntarily.

He paused and slowly turned around. I walked closer, albeit timidly. Each step I made reverberated throughout the room. My eyes stayed focused on him, never leaving his. I would show him that I wasn't afraid, that he didn't have as much power over me as he would like to think. I attempted to make myself relax despite the circumstances. He wouldn't really hurt me, not for his own pleasure anyway. He had already proven that to me many times; but I couldn't help but feel ill at ease being in his presence. Everything about him just screamed evil – psychotic.

I stopped in front of him until we were only a foot away. I swallowed, eyes moving from his to every visible scar from head to toe. A pang of a strange emotion hit me once again, not near as strong as when I had been in his and Laura's rooms, but very similar. Not quite guilt, not quite anger, and not quite sadness. Almost a mix of them together. Every inch of his skin was covered with the reminder of what true hatred is, only a small portion revealing the man that he could have become. He might have even been handsome if not for the disfigurements. I could see that no matter how many years went by, they had never fully healed – and never would. I wondered how on earth he had survived so long while sustaining that much damage.

"Seriously,…thank you," I whispered.

His eyes lingered on mine before traveling all over – observing, calculating. They rested back on my face and remained. He gave a slow, obligatory nod before turning on his heels and vanishing from sight. My lips parted as I sucked in a breath. Now that I was alone, I needed to figure out where on earth I was. Giant, rusted saw blades were propped against the walls along with various other torture devices, traces of blood still sprinkled along the edges. I cringed and pulled out my gun, preparing myself for whatever was to come. Walking towards the door that Ruvik was about to exit through, I gulped; I almost didn't want to know what was on the other side if what resided in that room was any indication.

But I continued further down, nonetheless. Slowly opening the door, I found another room entirely made from cement; blood, guts, and other body parts and fluids flooded the floor in piles. I gagged and covered my nose at the rotten stench. I had hoped that I would never have to return to another room like this. On the other side, I could see a barred door, much like what would be in a jail cell. I dashed towards it, hopeful that it would lead to a less disgusting area. To my chagrin, it was padlocked. I muttered a curse and looked around for another exit. To my surprise, I had completely missed the ladder attached to the wall on the opposite side of the room. I ran for it, each step causing the disgusting mess to splash in all directions. Tightly, I gripped the rungs, heaving myself up towards the top.

As I ascended, I felt myself beginning to slip due to a mix of sweaty hands and blood soaked handles; fortunately, I quickly caught myself. Reaching the top of the ladder, I pushed open a grate and slid it across the tile floor. Finally, I climbed through, cursing myself for not working out near as much as I would like to say I did. Pressing my hands into the floor for support, I left behind bloody handprints. I stood to my feet, pulling out my gun. I was in some sort of an office type room painted a strange shade of green and off-white. In front of me was a desk built into the wall with a door to its left. Above the desk was a glass window covered in smudges.

Suddenly, a man came running down the hall from the right. He kicked open the door, causing to me scream. I fired, narrowly missing him. The doorframe suffered the damage, splinters flying in all directions. His almond shaped eyes stared back wide-eyed behind black, thick-rimmed glasses. He quickly shut the door behind him, back pressed against it. He placed a finger over his lips and waved towards the ground, urging me to duck down. Hesitantly, I did as he commanded. I couldn't see what was on the other side of the door, however I could hear each heavy pat of its footsteps. Heavy breathing followed as it stopped right at the door.

We waited. Metal scraped. The breathing grew heavier.

Fortunately, a crashing noise in the distance saved us, causing the creature to scurry off towards the source.

"Woah, it's alright," the man reassured, raising his hands up in surrender.

Not even realizing until that moment that I still had my gun raised, I quickly lowered it. "My God! I'm sorry!" I squeaked, realizing I had almost killed another human being.

He sighed, peering out the window of the door. "It's…it's fine….you didn't hit me. That's the main thing." He ran his gloved fingers through his black hair.

"Who are you?" I asked.

He turned back around to face me, revealing blood splattered attire similar to Sebastian's. On his black vest was a pinned detective badge. "Joseph Oda. I work with the KCPD."

I perked up at the mention of the detective's workplace. "Alice Carroll. Do you know Sebastian?"

"We're partners. Have you seen him?" he asked, eyes filled with concern.

I nodded. "Yeah,…but we were separated a little while back," I said, glancing to the ground at the mention of his attack.

"Do you know where we are?" he asked, pushing his black glasses further up the bridge of his nose.

"Unfortunately, no." I reloaded my gun and stood to my feet. "Look, don't take this the wrong way but for both our sakes, it's best that I get away from you as soon as possible."

He frowned, standing to his feet as well. "Why do you say that?"

"I don't have time to explain, just trust me."

He shook his head, crossing his arms. "I can't let you do that. It's my job to protect and serve – it's kind of part of the job description." He pointed to the badge on his vest for emphasis.

I was tempted to roll my eyes, but contained myself. "I get that, it's just…we're both in danger."

"You're the only living person I've come in contact with since I last saw Seb. I think we should stick together."

I actually did roll my eyes that time. "Fine. Whatever." Even though I knew that he was just trying to help, I couldn't help but become slightly perturbed. However, a tiny part of me also gushed that a handsome man wanted to stick by my side.

He opened the door, heading out first with his handgun ready to fire. I followed behind him, copying his movements. "Stay close," he ordered while turning a corner. At the end of the hallway was a door to the stairwell, bright red letters spelled out the word 'exit' above it. We continued towards it. Just as we were about to reach the end, a door burst open – a haunted came out, growling and wielding a shotgun. It fired, blowing a hole in the wall to our left. Joseph cursed, shooting back with his pistol. I joined in, finishing the job between the two of us. We gathered the ammo and split it.

"Let's go," I said once the job was done. He nodded after checking the room it had come from, making sure that nothing still resided within. We hurried through the door, Joseph at the lead, and walked down the stairwell. It seemed to continue on forever, spiraling deeper into the earth. Our feet clanked against the metal steps. "I'm really starting to hate stairs," I grumbled, remembering how many times they had led me to not very pleasant experiences. Though he didn't respond, I could tell he was thinking the same exact thing.

"I see a door," he announced, pointing further down.

"Thank God," I muttered.

We entered into the basement level of the building. Steam and flames shot from metal pipes protruding from the high ceilings and walls, causing Joseph and I to have to dodge them with each blast. "What is this place?" he muttered. In the distance, a chain link cage rattled as a spider-like creature scrambled across it, descending from high above. It slowly stalked from its position and onto the metal walkway we stood on. We could only watch in horror.

The creature looked like a woman, an extremely large one at that. It crawled on the ground, multiple arms protruding from it's charred flesh. Long, black hair hung in its face. As it slowly approached, it let out heavy, almost labored sounding breaths – as if every movement was a monumental effort. Joseph and I continued to shoot at the creature, but our efforts were in vain. It absorbed the blasts without displaying any sort of effect. Finally, it reared back it's head, showing it's true face as it let out a gut wrenching shriek of agony.

"L-Laura?" I stammered, eyes growing large.

It looked at me as I spoke its name. Then it charged. Just at the right moment, Joseph shot at a barrel filled with gasoline, causing the container to burst into flames. Fire enveloped the Laura creature; it once again shrieked in agony. All I could do was stand there and stare as it burned before Joseph grabbed my arm and dragged me down a long corridor. The screaming stopped. I took a look behind me to find that it was charging at us as we dashed down the hallway. Through tiny glass windows on the pipes above us, I could see that flames flowed through like water. A large faucet extended from the ceiling; at its right was a lever. With no other option, I yanked myself from Joseph's grip and fired. Once again, the flames consumed her and she howled in anguish.

"Keep going!" I shouted to him. Making sure that I was with him, we both took off down the corridor. The creature was right on our tails. A fallen haunted lay just up ahead, a torch burned bright right beside it. "Grab the torch," I called to Joseph. Without hesitation he ripped it from the ground, whipping around and swiping at the creature. We quickened our pace while she was momentarily delayed.

"There's a vent up ahead," Joseph cried, pointing in the direction of it. Panting and out of breath, we sprinted in its direction. Joseph dived in, followed by me. We crawled as fast as we could. The Laura creature bellowed as it rammed into the walls around the vent.

Suddenly, I felt a large hand wrap around my ankle.

I screamed as it began to drag me out, nails clawing and scraping into the vent for some sort of hold. "Alice!" Joseph yelled before grabbing onto my hands, turning me into a game of tug of war. His hands slipped, and I was sent falling to the ground and back into the same predicament as before. I continued to claw and kick, hoping that something would make a difference, but to no avail. I was dragged completely out, flipped over on my back to where I was right underneath it. Laura's face – the one that I had always known to bear a sweet smile – now twisted and deformed, stared back at me with a look of utter hatred. I could only look back in horror as her gigantic, clawed hands prepared to smash my face in.

A gun shot fired.

It fell limp on top of me, the weight crushing me. I cried out in pain as I felt a snap in my ribs. Joseph came to my aid, yanking me out from underneath. Panting, I clutched my side – I knew that I had at least done some damage to it. Whether or not any ribs were broken would remain to be seen.

I looked down at the Laura creature, a mixture of sadness, fear, and disgust filling me. No matter the truth, I chose to believe that this wasn't truly her. The real Laura died in the fire. "Is she…dead?" I asked Joseph.

"I don't know. Let's go before something else happens," he commanded, urging me back towards the vent. Still clutching my side, I gingerly lowered into the vent, forcing myself to crawl despite the pain. He followed behind this time, lest I run into the same problem and end up not quite as lucky. "There's a light up ahead," he announced, peering just beyond me. Sure enough, he was correct. There was a cool blue light streaming in from in between the bars of the air vent just ahead of us. Sweat poured from my brow, every breath seeming like a struggle. The pain was excruciating. Finally, we reached the end.

"Can you push it open?" he asked. In response, I kicked and pushed, clutching my side and crying out in pain.

"No," I said through gritted teeth.

"I'll try." He moved to pass me. I attempted to flatten myself against the side of the vent for him to push past. Soon, he was on the other side of me. Without much effort on his part at all, he got the grate open. If not for the fact that I had more pressing matters to attend to, I would have huffed in annoyance. He stepped out, extending his arms towards me. "C'mon, I'll help you." I scooted myself toward him, thankful for his assistance. He gently took my hand, the other placed at my back while he helped me stand.

"We need to get something to help your side," he said mostly to himself while looking around.

"There's not much we can do," I explained through heavy breaths. "If we could just find something to wrap around it for support, that's probably the best thing."

"Maybe there's something around here that could work." He began leading me in the direction of a room further down the hallway.

Suddenly, A tall woman with chin-length, spiky brown hair and blue eyes came running past. Her heels clacked against the tile floor with each step. She firmly gripped a handgun, eyes darting in all directions in search of something – or someone. "Leslie!" she called. She stopped upon sight of Joseph, her eyes widening. "God, no," she breathed before turning and dashing further down the hallway.

"Hey!" I called after her, waving an arm to gain her attention but to no avail. I grumbled angrily, turning back to Joseph. "What was that about?"

He didn't respond.

"Joseph?"

A maniacal laugh escaped his lips. He twisted around to face me, appearance contorted by corruption just as Sebastian's was. I tried to back away, but his gentle grip tightened dangerously.

_Not again…_

* * *

There's a strange man outside my door. I'm pretending I'm not home.

God, help me.

**A/N: If things haven't heated up enough for you yet, here you go, gosh dang it. First thing, sorry if there are mistakes, I only had one day to write this compared to the usual 2-3 week time period I seem to take... If there are, I would appreciate someone letting me know. And, sorry to end it on a cliffhanger, but (I'm not at all, I laugh at your misery) I couldn't help it. XD I just realized how evil I am to Alice,...do you think I'm being too rough on her? I assure you, I do it out of love...(maybe, idk.)**

**Hope y'all liked it! :) Now I'm off to go kick some butt because I've had too much caffeine and sugar.**


	12. Joseph

_Chapter 10 - Joseph_

I left last night. Currently I'm hiding out in a pretty dilapidated motel just five miles outside of Krimson – a risky move, I know. I need to leave this place all together. But here I still am. Sometimes I find myself daydreaming about where all I could go, but I find myself still wishing…still hoping.

Where is he now?

* * *

"Joseph!" I gasped through struggling breaths as his gloved grip around my throat constricted. My grime-encrusted fingernails dug into the ash colored flesh of his arms, clawing and scraping until I drew blood. He cried out in pain, cursing me and tightening his death hold.

The world was fading in and out of view, slowly turning black. Lightheaded. Swimming into a sea of endless darkness. Dying. I croaked in a panic as I suffocated.

With one last burst of adrenaline before the lights went out, I thrust my knee into his lower abdomen. A groan of pain escaped his chapped lips. This sent him, as well as me, backwards. Fingers began loosening their grip around my neck, allowing me to take advantage. I ripped myself from his grasp, stumbling and coughing furiously. Dark bruises began to form in the places where his hands had been. I dashed away, searching for my gun only to find that it was no longer on my person. Muttering a curse, I looked for a place to either hide or run away.

**"Oh, Ali!"** Joseph called in a sing-song voice, tone dripping with venom. **"I know you're still here. Come out, come out wherever you are!"** After recovering from my attack, he chased after me in the direction I had gone. A sadistic smile creeped onto his normally stoic face, menacing chuckles echoing throughout the area. His footsteps were loud, almost pounding into the tile floor. In his right hand, he held his gun.

I ran into an auditorium style room while clutching my still aching side. Panting, I circled around in an attempt to find a place to hide. I panicked.

**"I can hear you, Ali!"** Joseph growled only a few feet from the doorway.

I ran down the steps that ran beside the rows of seats to one near the lowest level and ducked behind. '_Crawl,' _my mind told me. Without any hesitation, I obeyed despite the pain it caused me. His footsteps grew louder as he descended the steps.

Three haunted ran into the room, causing the detective to spin around. As they ran toward him, he fired. Unfortunately for him, his current gun wasn't doing much damage to them. One fell with a shot to the head, the other two continued to barrel towards him. Rotting hands grabbed him while he tried desperately to fight them off. His handgun fell to the floor. Taking advantage of the opportunity, I bolted out the door.

**"Hey!"** he shouted while he struggled against the creatures' attacks.

I didn't want to even look at him. "I'm sorry, Joseph," I whispered as I hobbled.

The struggling continued inside, though I chose to ignore the sounds. With a groan of displeasure, I discovered that continuing down the hallway only led to a dead end. My only option was to turn around and go back the way we had came.

The noises stopped with gun shots.

I muttered a curse as I sprinted.

**"I've got you now!"** Joseph growled from behind me with his gun aimed in my direction. I quickly turned into a room to my left just before the shot fired. The wooden doorframe was left with a large dent as wood splinters flew in all directions. In a last ditch effort, I shut the door and barred it with a desk chair. There was no where to run; I was officially trapped. Only the moonlight through the barred window on the other side of the room gave me any visibility.

Joseph attempted to ram his way through, causing the door to jolt from the impact. With no other option left, I hid myself in the locker in the corner and closed the door behind me. My heart hammered so loud, I was afraid that he could hear it.

The door flew open, revealing a rather pissed looking Joseph. He let out a low, maniacal laugh.** "I know you're in here, little Ali. I can hear your heart beating in your chest."** Through the the slits in the door, I could make out his form pacing around the room as he searched for me. Blood covered him from head to toe now after his latest run-in with the undead. He first checked under the desk, grunting displeasedly at my absence. Slowly, he rose to his feet and looked around him. Brown eyes landed on the locker I now stood inside.** "Found you,"** he growled with a smile.

As he approached, I closed my eyes, hoping that something or someone would save the day. Footsteps pounded as he stalked towards me, more laughs erupted from him. He held his gun at the ready, aimed right in my direction. The hinges squeaked as the door flew open, the moonlight flooding my vision despite its dimness. He pressed the gun to my skull. **"Say goodnight, little Ali."** He pulled the trigger.

_Click._

He yelled in outrage as he continuously pulled the trigger to find that he was out of ammunition. With a forceful yank, he sent me out of the locker and face-flat onto the tile floor. **"Well then,"** he snarled. **"I guess we'll just have to do this the old fashioned way." **I scrambled to get to my feet. He picked up a leg of the wooden desk chair and swung at me. I ducked, narrowly missing blow.

Against him, brute strength would be impossible. The corruption made him even stronger than normal. My only hope was to find my gun I had lost before he did. Picking up a piece of wood from the pile on the floor, just in case I needed it, I dashed toward the vent where it had been knocked away. All the while, Joseph was right on my tail; his panting alerted me to his close proximity. When I reached the open vent, I looked around but found nothing. I panicked. He swung again; fortunately, I moved just before I could receive the full force of the blow. However, I did get a nice scratch across my back, causing me to cry out. Not happy with the fact that I had avoided the impact, he growled angrily and swung again. This time he hit me on the shoulder, knocking me to the ground. Tears filled my eyes as I felt the joint dislocate. He stood over me now, eyes gleaming with bloodlust. He smiled as he raised the chair leg to jam it in my skull.

My fingers brushed up against a metallic object – my gun. Without even thinking, I aimed straight for his head.

I pulled the trigger.

He fell. Blood splattered, the taste of copper sat on my tongue.

Shock enveloped me, my head swimming from the rush. Though sweat dripped down every inch of me, I felt a cold chill strike through me. I shrieked once I realized what I had done, shaky hands no longer able to hold the weapon. It fumbled to the ground. "No, no, no, no," I repeated as I inspected him one last time.

I had killed him.

Tears filled my eyes as I cried over him. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," I muttered over and over in a quiet mantra. His glasses were shattered, the blast from the gun having gone through his eye socket; a large hole on the crown of his head revealed the exit wound. Blood trickled down into a small pool around him, some dripping from his lips. Still consumed by corruption, he retained his ashy appearance and bulging veins. A hauntingly twisted smile was still plastered across his face.

"What have I done?" I breathed through sobs.

* * *

**A/N: Well...dang, Ali. **

**Once again, I want to thank all of those who favorited, followed, and reviewed! Y'all are the best. ^^ If I could hug y'all I would, but y'know...internet. And lastly, I apologize about the length. I know it's short, but I hope y'all can forgive me. :c It's very eventful at least. **

**Pearl: I'm really happy that you liked it! :D I know right, who needs Ruvik when you've got two good lookin' detectives? XD**

**BTW, I'm doing art for people's TEW OCs (with or without a canon character) if anyone is interested. It's a big stress reliever for me right now with all the craziness that's going on. If you are interested, then just let me know. :) (And yes, it's free.)**

**Reviews are appreciated! :) **


	13. Don't You Dare Look Back

_Chapter 11 – Don't You Dare Look Back_

* * *

_This is torturous_

_Electricity between both of us_

_And this is dangerous_

_'Cause I want you so much_

_But I hate your guts_

_I hate you_

* * *

I just stood there.

Joseph was dead. I had killed him. His crimson, still warm blood pooled at my feet while I continued to stare at his maniacal-looking corpse. That smile – that insane gleam in his lifeless, damaged eyes – will forever haunt me. All I could do was gaze upon the tragedy, reminding myself of my actions; I blamed myself for it all. He had only been trying to protect me; but because of my stupidity, it had to come to this. I could have stopped it if I had _just walked away._

But I didn't…and now he had to be the one to suffer the consequences…

I begged him for the forgiveness that he would never be able to give, tears pouring upon his body. The sensation of total remorse was so overwhelming that I could hardly move. I didn't know him, I didn't have to. I wondered if he was married, if he had a child. What would happen when it came time to explain what happened?

There was no use looking to him for answers.

I left him to rot. His body would decay into the furthest regions of Ruvik's consciousness never to be seen again. He would merely be a memory. A part of me wondered if it meant that he was truly dead. If it was true that we were all connected to a machine that linked us to Ruvik's mind, then would he wake with us or remain dead? Would we even wake at all? Who or what was stopping us from leaving? What was this Mobius that Ruvik had gone on about? Were they the one's responsible? I pondered this as I stumbled down the halls in a daze.

The guilt was unbearable, weighing on me to the point of suffocation. It was my fault that he was dead…that he had been corrupted in the first place.

_Why should I continue on?_

The moment replayed over and over in my mind like a broken record.

_Joseph deserved to live. __**You**__ should have been the one to die._

I stepped over a decaying corpse lying on the ground. I wanted to scream to make the thoughts stop.

_**It should be you left to rot in here. Who would miss you?**_

In the distance, a haunted howled. I could see the light from its glowing eyes around the corner. The glow of its torch illuminated its path as it took decisive steps. Slowly, it stalked down the corridor while it searched for intruders. With its back turned, I took the opportunity to dash behind a pair of crates stacked beside each other. The encounter with Joseph had left me with only one gun and my knife; unfortunately, I was now down to only a couple of shots. This meant that I needed to conserve as much ammo as possible. Once I got into position I prepared my attack. "Over here!" I shouted.

The creature turned its head and prowled towards me. I crawled around to the other side of the crates while it passed, staying out of its line of sight. It stopped upon reaching the location of my shouting and let out a perturbed hiss at my absence. Quickly, it spun around in search of my whereabouts. When the opportunity presented itself, I grabbed the haunted and jammed my knife into its cranium with a satisfying crunch. Glowing eyes transformed into a deep shade of black. The torch fell from its hand.

For a moment I held on until my hands could grasp the creature no longer. It plopped onto the floor with a loud thud. Green eyes locked on, never once looking away. The flashes returned, reminding me of every detail of Joseph's death.

_**His murder.**_

I kneeled down and yanked out the knife from its head and watched as blood dripped from the fatal wound and onto the floor. The steady plink of each individual drop enveloped the room as they echoed.

_**It should have been you.**_

I jammed the knife in once again, letting out a scream. And again. And again. I continued until I was sure that my arm could no longer move from the soreness. I looked upon my damage to find puncture wounds all over the haunted's bleeding face. I stood to my feet to back away. Joseph's lifeless grin flashed before my eyes. With shaking hands, I dropped the knife with a squeal as I realized what I had done.

All I could do was stare.

Heart pounding and breathing heavy, I stumbled to retrieve the weapon and store it back inside my pocket. I wiped away the tears that threatened to form from my eyes and turned to look away. The torch laid at my feet, somehow still burning despite falling into a pool of blood which should have subdued the flame to some degree. I carefully picked it up and held it firmly in my left hand.

The further I traveled, the darker it became. Pale moonlight through broken glass windows no longer illuminated my path, my only source of light came from the torch. I was surrounded once again by darkness – my worst fear. Adrenaline coursed through my veins, heart hammering in my chest. Shards of broken glass bottles crunched under my feet. Something growled in the distance, causing me to jump at the sudden sound. I cursed and pulled out my handgun, aiming it directly in front of me. Glowing white, beady eyes greeted me from within the blackness.

The haunted hissed as it barreled towards me, arms outstretched and ready to tear me apart. With just the one to take care of, I knew that this was yet again not a good time to waste ammo. However, this torch was my only source of light – without it, I would have to stumble blindly through the darkness. I replaced my handgun with my knife, hoping that I could at least stun it long enough to find ammunition. I dodged its swipe in my direction, taking a slash of my own at its arm. It growled in pain before it attacked again, this time managing to latch onto my wrist. Grasping onto me while I struggled to break free, it sank its teeth into my shoulder – not enough to do much damage, but enough to cause me to cry out in protest. Finally, I was able to free myself from its hold and jam the knife into its skull.

This time however, it wasn't enough. The creature remained unfazed. My eyes widened as it yanked the weapon from the top of its head and used it to slash at me. I dodged its blow with a dive to the side and landed on the ground, pain searing through me with the impact. With no other option, I whipped out my gun and fired, blowing its skull to pieces.

Once I deemed the haunted officially dead, I collapsed. Panting, I wiped away the beads of sweat that formed at my brow and threatened to trickle down my face. "They're getting stronger," I whispered to myself through jagged breaths.

But I knew that this was not the last one I would come in contact with. Torch in hand, I got into a crouched position to search the area for the supplies that I desperately needed. Finally, the familiar blue box of handgun bullets came into view upon the floor, just a few feet from where I stood. Though I was thankful to find some sort of aide, I was disgruntled to find that there were only two bullets inside. But 'beggars can't be choosers', as the old saying goes; so I hurriedly reloaded my weapon and readied myself for whatever was to come ahead. Just for good measure, I rifled through any drawer or cabinet I could to find them emptied of any contents.

_**Bang**_

I jumped, eyes widening at the sound of gunshots in the distance. Muffled footsteps patted against the floor at a rushed pace, followed by the dull thud of much heavier ones. A familiar male voice shouted a curse. "Sebastian?" I croaked, not at all desiring to run into him. The firing continued. Wham – something slammed into a wall.

Sitting in total silence while I listened to the chaos, I focused my attention on the light of the flame. Chills like the scrambling feet of insects crawled up my spine. Despite my desire to stay put, I knew that I had to keep going – even if whatever was out there found me. I held my torch out, allowing the fire to illuminate my path as I took feeble steps. The darkness was unforgiving, almost snuffing out the little light with its intensity.

To my relief, I found a door. Hesitation gripped me as I reached a shaking hand to pull the knob. The noises continued from the other side. I gulped and slowly cracked the door open.

Pale light flooded my vision, causing me to avert my eyes from the sudden intensity despite the dimness of it. Once they had adjusted, I found cloud-covered daylight streaming in through the two windows before me. The familiar, ugly creme painted brick was the first thing that caught my attention, though worn and splattered with blood. The wooden floors were filthy with a large gaping hole directly in the center of the room. Familiarity struck me like a flash of lightning – it was my grandparent's apartment.

A roaring fire crackled outside, dying embers flickering within the charred remains of what was once a support beam. The remnants of the past still lingered, albeit deteriorated by age and abandonment. Folding chairs and the small dining table still sat in their places just as I remembered. The gray couch had collapsed with the fallen floor along with the coffee table and its assortment of gaudy décor.

Taking a step, I heard the crunch of broken glass as I landed on a picture frame. I picked it up to find a picture taken of me at the age of ten, red hair flapping in the wind while I flew in the air on a swing. Letting out a sigh, I tossed the picture aside, allowing it to crash onto the floor.

I felt a lump rise in my throat which I attempted to swallow back. Being in that place was emotional to say the least, seeing as it contained both good and horrible memories.

After the confirmation of my parents' deaths, I left. Years passed, mistakes were made, some I wish that I could take back…but no matter how much I would love to wish them away, I can't. At twenty, I came to their doorstep begging for help. They were the ones who helped me pick up the pieces and made sure that I finished high school. They helped heal the wounds of a broken, dysfunctional relationship that resulted in irreversible damage and unexpected joy for another.

Long story short, I met a guy who I fell in love with – or so I thought. In the end, I was abandoned by him with a child on the way. For nine months, I did what I could to get by until the delivery. I gave her away for adoption, knowing full well that I would never see her again. There was no way I could take care of a kid; better that she end up in the hands of a loving family than with a deadbeat mom who couldn't even take care of herself. So, at the end of my rope, I found my grandparents who welcomed me with open arms despite what I had done.

A part of me wishes that I could see her now, though I know that she probably wants nothing to do with me. She would be fifteen, almost sixteen years old…The same age that I was when I made the decision to run away. I wish her the happiness that I never had…

The sound of dragging reached my ears, followed by the pounding of heavy footsteps. Tracing the noise, I found that it was out in the direction of the hallway.

As I peeked around the doorframe, I could make out a hulk-sized man dragging a sack while walking further away. He walked into the room at the very end of the corridor. It was only as he stopped to peer back behind him that I finally got the chance to truly observe. His head was replaced with an old, worn safe wrapped with rusted barbed wire. A meat cleaver was gripped in his gigantic hand, fingers curled around it with a tightened hold. He whipped around, entering the room and slamming the door behind him.

Backing away with fear, I knew that I did not want to mess with whatever that creature was. Shuddering, I decided to have a look around. Knowing my grandparents they probably wouldn't have had anything useful lying around, however it was better to be safe than sorry. I searched through the living room then made my way to the kitchen area; neither place yielded the results that I had hoped for. With a frustrated growl, I entered the opposite end of the apartment toward the direction of the bathroom and two bedrooms.

My grandparents' bedroom and bathroom were empty to my chagrin, every drawer and cabinet pulled apart as I searched. All that remained was the second bedroom – my former room. With hesitation, I reached a hand toward the knob and turned. The door creaked open. Everything within the room remained intact despite being covered in dust and grime, every object just as I had left it. It was chilling to see.

A Backstreet Boys poster clung to the wall, causing me to grin and let out a small chuckle; I had forgotten all about my former guilty pleasure. My random assortments of books were carelessly thrown in a pile near the tiny closet which once housed my clothes. The little twin bed in the corner was still made just as I had done so years ago, however a sunflower had been placed on top. I picked up the flower with a scowl and twirled the stem between my fingertips. I didn't even have to turn around to know that he was standing behind me. "Of course," I grumbled.

I sighed. "Thanks so much for the help, by the way. I'm sorry, but I'm afraid we'll have to cut this little meeting short." With a wave of my hand, I flicked the sunflower onto the ground. "As you can see, I'm not in the greatest shape right now." I gestured to the fact that I was clutching my wounded side. Sure enough, I turned around to spot Ruvik.

He didn't even acknowledge my words; instead he stood on the other side of the room with a dour expression painted across his sharp features. "You continue to disappoint me, Ali," he replied with a glare, tone matching his words and demeanor. "If only you had listened. Poor little Joseph might have lived."

The statement stung. Tears of anger pricked my eyes. "You of all people have no right to talk to me like that," I growled. "I have been through hell and back with no help at all until he and Sebastian came along."

He scoffed. "You've had plenty of help."

I crossed my arms like a stubborn child, trying as hard as I could to display just how beyond perturbed I was with him. "From _you_? Yeah, that one time but what about the millions of times when you weren't there? What do you expect me to do?"

This did not set well with him. "That was not the only time I've aided you. If not for me, you would have been killed long ago," he practically snarled. Taking strides in my direction, I found myself backing away in response. He stopped, not at all pleased with my reaction as displayed by the flare of his nostrils. "And as for what I expect from you, I only ask that you _listen_. Just _concede_ to the fact that you need me."

I scoffed at him, my own nostrils flaring as I attempted to bite back my anger. "Concede?" A bark of a laugh erupted at the very idea. "You can't possibly believe that I would just submit that easily."

He raised his arms at his sides as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "It will be much easier if you just give in."

Shaking my head, I took in a deep breath. "Give in…you expect me to just _give in?_ You obviously don't understand what kind of position you're putting me in here. If you can't understand what you have done to me – _to my family_," I motioned for emphasis, "then you're even crazier than I thought."

As I turned around to walk away he re-appeared right before me, latching onto my arm to stop me from moving with a grip so tight that I let out a whimper. "Your parents weren't nearly as innocent as you wish to believe," he drawled.

Grunting, I pried away at his fingers with no success. "Yes, because of Dad! Mom _was_ innocent!" I shook my arm to break free, but he only tightened his grip. I let out a small cry in protest, not entirely due to the pain he was causing me.

Glowing eyes glowered under the shadow of his hood, appearing even more intimidating than his usual scowl. He let out an unsatisfied, "hmph," not at all pleased that I would still try to defend them after all they had done. He slowly released me and returned his hand to his side. "Not in the slightest," he hissed.

My eyes widened, lips parting as I absorbed the words. "No," I whispered while shaking my head. Anger welled inside of me to the point where I began to shake. "I am not going to listen to this."

"She abused you."

I froze. Had I heard him correctly?

My breathing quickened, heart racing. All I could do was stare at him dumbfounded, however I knew that what he said was true – even if I didn't want to admit it. I wrung my shaking hands as I recalled how much she had changed after we left the farm.

We had to start from scratch, living off of whatever we could find. For three months we stayed in a tiny apartment with my grandparents while both my mother and father looked for work. The stress had taken its toll on her already fragile state of mind, for which, she could no longer obtain her medication to ease. As a result, since my dad was always working, I was the one who received the full extent of her angered outbursts. I flinched as memories of her words to me and the pain of each lash played through my mind like a movie.

"How…how in the _hell_ did you know that?!" I cried.

"I just do," Ruvik replied.

"No. **No**," I barked. "You cannot pretend to justify what you did by her actions." My breathing quickened as I fought to say the words.

His jaw clenched, brows furrowing in anger. "She beat you. All the while, your father worked over-time just to avoid coming home so he didn't have to hear your pleas for help."

Though I stayed silent, I could no longer hold back the emotions that bubbled within me as my fists began to shake at my sides. I clenched my jaw, a bead of sweat trickling down my forehead.

He stepped closer, circling me. "Using discreet methods, I was able to find your location. When I witnessed what was done – how your mother attacked you with whatever she could get her hands on, how your father refused to acknowledge it, how many bruises and scars you received and tried so desperately to conceal…" He visibly tensed, hands tightening into fists at his sides. "I could no longer allow it to continue."

I dropped the torch. With an anguished cry I pounded my fist into his chest. This action seemed to stun him; his eyes widened as he ever so slightly stumbled back. As I went to do it again he disappeared, sending me hurtling forward. From behind, ice-cold arms snaked around me, simultaneously catching me and stopping me from attacking him once more. With a tight grip, he held my back against his chest. I could feel the chill as well the ruggedness of his skin through the fabric of my uniform.

I flinched, expecting him to retaliate in anger for my behavior. He grit his teeth as he seethed, his hold on me tightening until I almost cried out from the pain. Blackened fingers dug into my chest and my stomach, forcing me to submit to his will. I struggled, fighting to break free. Soon I realized the futility of my actions and nearly collapsed in defeat. Exhaustion and hopelessness consumed me as I stood there panting, my head dropping as tears fell. His temper calmed once I had admitted defeat, grip loosening, allowing me to take in a deep inhale. His breath swept my ear as he leaned in towards it, his lips brushing against my hair. "You don't hate me," he merely stated. The tone with which he spoke the words wasn't quite as angered as before – this time it was almost as if he were merely stating a common knowledge fact.

I gulped down the lump in my throat. "You're wrong," I spat through gritted teeth.

However, the intensity of his gaze alerted me to the fact that he knew everything that I was thinking and every emotion that I was feeling; nothing could be kept secret from him when he was the one in control. He was the host, and we were the outlanders in this foreign land – intruders inside of his own domain. He turned me around and pulled me close, our noses practically touching. "You know that what I did wasn't just for my own benefit but yours as well."

I looked back into his eyes as small tears trickled down my cheeks. Already, I could feel my wall of defense crumbling beneath his silver gaze. I sniffed and darted my eyes away. "I-I don't know that," I replied, tone no longer angry but filled with bitter emotion – comparatively softened. It was a half honest response. I didn't know what to believe but a part of me wanted to believe him.

He called my bluff. "I do." He slowly released me – no doubt just to prove his point – and stepped back to give me room. This was the moment in which I was allowed to decide my own fate, however I know now that this was just a ploy. It was the oldest trick in the book – allow the victim to feel that they are the one in control, give them a choice, but really ensure that the odds are in your favor.

I, too, took a feeble step backwards and felt myself begin to break down in front of him, unable to look into those piercing eyes. He, in turn, stayed put, a mix of deliberation and his usual form of somberness painting his hardened features. Pale, scarred, and blackened arms extended allowing me to make my final choice, openly welcoming me to him. Bidding me to come forward.

Hesitation stopped me as I contemplated running away. I turned my back to him, but dared not take a step. This man that had known nothing but pain and hatred from others for most of his life had taken my family from me. And yet it wasn't entirely his fault; he thought that he was doing the right thing. After all, don't those who practice evil think that they are justified in what they do? Insane people don't think that they are insane. My father was one of the many responsible for stealing Ruvik's sanity – didn't he try to justify his actions by what the Victorianos had done to him? But all of those innocent lives he took…He felt absolutely no remorse for what he had done to them. The thoughts plagued my mind, circling and circling until I was left in a daze.

But then I turned back around to face him. I knew I should walk away, but for some inexplicable reason I found myself unable to do so. I found myself taking timid steps in his direction. My arms wrapped around themselves to give myself comfort. Without even lifting a finger, he was pulling me towards him. I drew nearer until we were only inches away. Patiently, he waited, expectant and disguising my falsely given "free will" as truth. His arms were still wide open. His eyes retained their hollow dark gleam, albeit subdued due to the moment.

As the tears fell, memories resurfaced – ones that seemed to recount the days when he and I were still in each other's good graces. And in that moment I knew…he was really the only thing I had left.

And in a moment of total weakness, I gave in to him.

Shaking fists gripped the fabric of his robe as if my life depended on it while I buried my head into the crook of his neck to bawl. He smelled of blood and burned flesh mixed with ash. Once again, I felt his hands slip around my waist. Most might have depicted it as a consoling embrace, but I knew that he felt the same need to hold on to what little shard of former happiness was left. Though his firm hold and my heaving sobs hurt my rib, I ignored the pain. My fists loosened, letting go of the edges of his robe to wrap my arms around him. Anger dissipated, leaving behind only the bitter heartache and the retched hollowness of loss. I emptied out years of distress and suffering at the hands of others; the floodgates had opened, and there was no turning back.

"You're all I've got left…," I sobbed, the pitch of my voice rising. "T-the fire didn't ruin j-just your life…I-I've lost so much too." I gripped him tighter.

His answer came as he leaned his head into my hair, forehead resting against the top of mine. His shallow, calm breath came in cool waves against my cheekbones. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, my sobbing began to cease; jagged breaths escaped my lips as the tears could no longer fall. We just stayed this way, clinging to one another as if we were the other's lifeline.

I leaned into him, head resting against his shoulder, and felt the steady rise and fall of his chest against my own. Slowly, I felt myself beginning to settle into him. My head raised to look at him only to find that he stared back with tiniest hint of a satisfied smile – I had fallen into his trap. Gently, I lowered my head back into its former spot, cheek resting against his robed chest. My fingers picked at the fabric at the edge of his cloak, feeling the stiffened cloth between my fingertips.

Lips parting, I let out a grieved sigh. "Please…Don't leave me too," I begged in a whisper once I had begun to calm down, nestling myself further into him. My eyes closed as I indulged in the moment of intimacy that I knew would be all too rare.

"Never," he replied darkly as I felt his grip on me tighten possessively.

As insane as it sounded, I felt that being in his arms was the safest place of all. As long as I was with him, he would be there to protect me – I knew that now. He may not have wanted to admit it, but he needed me too.

* * *

**A/N: Once again, thank you to everyone who favorited, followed, and reviewed! Y'all are the best! ^^ **

**Pearl: I know right? Poor Joseph. :( Thank you so much! :)**

**AnnDarkwater92: Thank you so much! That is so sweet! :) I'm so glad that you like it!**

**sweettea1: Wow, thank you so much! I'm really glad to hear that you liked it that much! :) Their interactions are my favorite parts of writing this story. XD So, as diabolical as you feel, I'm even more so. ^^; **

**I'm debating going back and rewriting the former chapters of this story. I feel like, and no one else may be able to tell, that my style has progressed quite a bit since I first started. It won't change the overall story in the slightest, however I might go back and add a few small details to clear things up. Like I said, I'm still debating it but it's quite a big possibility this summer since I won't have a job. **

**And just to let you know, I'm sad to say that we're nearing the end...:( We're not at the end yet, but we're getting pretty dang close. I wanted each chapter to correlate with each chapter of the game (which I need to go back and edit because I've slacked off in places). And, as you know, there are fifteen chapters in the game...Just a heads up...**

**Lastly, the song lyrics I used here are from 'Landfill' by Daughter. **


	14. Thread

**A/N: This is not a new chapter. However, I would suggest that you revisit chapters seven and eight - especially seven. I think you'll find some pretty interesting additions and revisions. :)**

* * *

_Chapter 13 – Thread_

_I'm hanging by a thread_

_I waited for your call_

_My hands are turning red_

_I'm hanging by a thread_

_I thought I had it all_

_My parachute's in shreds_

* * *

I can't sleep. I can't eat. The walls are closing in on me as I sit in this room. I can feel their eyes always watching me; no matter where I go, they are always there. Mobius. They'll forever haunt me until the day they finally grow bored of the chase and take me away to God knows where.

I keep running, but it's never enough. I can't take it anymore. Whoever finds this journal, just know that it's not over. It's never over. I still hear the ringing.

* * *

I held onto him for what felt like hours, too afraid to let go. Despite the fear of losing the only thing I had left, I was afraid of what he might do if I pulled away. A not entirely uncomfortable silence remained between us. His possessive grip, though somewhat unnerving, was strangely comforting. It was like every single memory I had repressed over the years was drained into a gigantic ocean of misery and I had been forcibly pushed over the edge to plummet into its murky depths – and here I was clinging to the most risky and unpredictable raft of all time.

Not once did he give any indication of discomfort, instead remaining still, contented despite his inexperience in giving comfort. I didn't even have to look at him to know that he was pleased with my newly formed dependence upon him. He was the only lifeline available when I felt myself hurtling toward the abyss, but just the slightest movement might sever this secure tie with him. I knew that this was probably the most contentment that he had experienced in years, and the thought only made me hold him tighter. He felt less rigid in my arms, almost as if slowly allowing himself to drop his shell-like exterior.

In the heat of the moment, the emotional roller coaster left me a nervous wreck. I still clung to him like a child clings to their favorite toy. Tear drops no longer fell, instead there were only the remnants of despair in their wake. Seized by the tragedy, I felt like a hollow shell of the woman I once was. Everything had been turned upside down in a single moment with only a few simple words from his scarred lips. My eyes closed and I took in a deep breath of air.

"So what happens after all of this?" I asked as I nestled myself further against his chest. "After we leave STEM?"

"You and I will begin the life that we should have had. Together," he replied in a tone that betrayed the hatred for those who had harmed him.

I raised my head to lock my anxiety-filled eyes with him. "Won't Mobius be after us?"

"I will take care of Mobius," he replied in an almost nonchalant tone despite practically spitting the name. "Everything will work as it should."

With a gulp, I fought down the anxiety that was steadily increasing. It took great effort to divert my thoughts from wondering what would happen if he was wrong. I attempted to put on the most serious expression I could muster as a thought entered my mind. "You have to promise me something, Ruben. No more killing. It's bad enough that you're taking Leslie's body away from him, don't make things even worse than they have to be."

The request visibly did not sit well with him. His jaw clenched in frustration. "I cannot guarantee that."

"Ruben-"

"-You have my answer," he replied firmly.

Feeling anger and anxiety rise within me, I gripped at his cloak with a tightened fist. He was thinking about Mobius, more determined than ever to exact his revenge upon the organization that had caused him so much strife. Chewing on my lip, I mulled over his response; but somehow, if I was completely honest with myself, I still wanted to remain by his side despite the morbid admission. My gaze shifted toward a pile of slowly crumbling debris about fifteen feet away from where we stood. Little flecks of ash fluttered to the ground in a tiny heap like snowflakes. Somehow I knew that though everything around us was burning, we were safe amongst the rubble.

"Am I crazy?" The words left my lips before I could stop them.

He returned his gaze back to me though I didn't look at him. A grin formed at my lips, albeit humorless, though I was quite unaware of its subtle appearance. "I'm in the arms of a murderer, a serial killer,...but he's my only friend. And as much as I should hate him, I can't bring myself to because every time I look in his eyes, I see that little boy that I loved so much as a child. But he's broken. Beaten. Literally torn apart." I let out a breath of a laugh, shaking my head. His hold became like a vise, causing me to wince in discomfort. "He's insane." This caused him to frown. If I were anyone else, I would have been killed in that moment. "And I think I must be too."

"After everything I've done for you," he began with a tone so low that it resembled a growl before I interrupted him.

" – Let me finish," I begged. Curiosity bid him to allow me to continue. I stepped back and moved to look deep into his eyes. He was obviously not pleased with where I was going, as evidenced by the tightening of his jaw, but I was determined to make him understand what kind of a position he was putting me in.

"But," I drawled, "he and I…," I took in a breath of air before I could speak the words, "belong together." He was expressionless now, the anger slowly dissolving away. "I can see that now. We'll be broken together."

I hesitantly placed my hands on both sides of his face and stood on my toes to plant a kiss on his cheek which retained some portion of his former skin; I gave him a tiny smile. He was momentarily caught off guard by the act, eyes growing slightly wider despite his deadened nerves unable to feel my lips meet his pasty flesh. My grin vanished, opting for the most serious face that I could muster. "And I'll follow you into the dark," I said with finality.

He studied me for a moment, almost as though allowing the words to sink in. With a sudden ferocity, his hands moved to the my back, crushing me against him. I let out a gasp; his face displayed the intensity of his thoughts. "Don't you see? You and I can finally have the lives that we should have had."

Hands still gently placed upon the sides of his cheeks, I brushed over the area where my lips had been with my thumb. My eyes darted across his features, feeling a pang of sadness burst through me. I could see in his eyes that he desired the feeling of my touch, but it would take the sacrifice of Leslie for that to happen. It felt wrong. Guilt filled me despite the fact that I would not be the one at fault. My eyes closed momentarily as I pushed the thoughts aside. "I want that so much," I whispered with a sad smile.

As I lowered my hands, he rested his forehead against my own. I was surprised, but submissive to the sudden act; but God he was so cold. As uneasy as his proximity felt, it wasn't enough to deter me.

"You don't think that I will succeed," he stated.

A tightness formed in my throat. "It's hard to have hope in you defeating something that's so much bigger. You have to admit, it's quite a lofty goal."

"I created this machine. I know its workings."

I bit my lip, taking his hand in my own. "Well then, I suppose that's enough of a reason to not doubt you."

He pulled away, giving me a slow, reassuring nod of agreement.

"Can I ask you something?" I questioned with a slightly quivering voice.

He raised a brow. "Haven't you already been asking me questions?"

I shrugged, glancing off to the side at the uncomfortable response. "But…this is different…," I said in a low, unsure tone.

He remained silent, no doubt pondering. "Ask," he commanded.

My nails dug into my palm, gaze shifting from the floor to any random object located inside the room; never once looking at him. "This whole thing with taking over Leslie's body…you obviously knew that the machine was capable of this, so I assume it's not just a fluke plan you came up with…" I took a chance to judge his reaction to find him intently listening, albeit as intently as he was capable of being. With this as a reassurance, I continued. "Was STEM originally supposed to be a way to bring Laura back? Transfer her consciousness into another's body so she would wake up?"

Once again, he was quiet. Different emotions were hidden in those silver eyes, some that I could not make out. A part of me was scared that I had offended him, which wouldn't' have surprised me considering that the man was a ticking time bomb. However, I was pleased to find that he retained his composure; whatever he was feeling, he kept it well hidden. "Yes. It will revive her as well," he replied, determination stitched firmly within his tone.

"Where is Leslie now?" I asked.

"For now, he is safe with the detective."

My eyes grew to the size of dinner plates as I recalled the man in question. "Sebastian? Is he…Is he alright?"

He gave a dark breath of a laugh, a smirk forming at his lips. "That would depend upon your definition of "alright.""

Not in the mood for his sarcasm, I furrowed my brows in frustration. "You know what I mean." Despite the temptation to roll my eyes, I settled for a sigh.

He, however, did not stifle the temptation. "Yes…he is "alright,"" he replied in a monotone manner.

More questions came to mind despite how much I wanted to save them for another time followed by the tiniest ounce of fear. Annoying him too much could make for quite an unfortunate problem, but I just couldn't seem to stop myself. "You promise that nothing bad will happen to Leslie once you take control, right?" I questioned meekly.

He gave no answer, merely looking beyond me as though lost in thought.

I felt my heart sink, hope falling from my reach. "You can't, can you?" I whispered.

He seemed to come back to life as he finally acknowledged my question. "Nothing like this has ever been attempted before. As for now, the repercussions are undeterminable without further progression."

I growled a curse, placing my head into my hands. That poor boy…after all that he had suffered…

"If it's any consolation, this is my burden to bear; not yours," he said. I could have almost laughed. There was no part of him that would feel any sort of burden when it came to obtaining what he desired, no matter the cost.

My head raised with a slow motion, red tresses messily falling into my face. "And would it be? Do you realize the severity of what you're doing?" I almost barked.

He was without any expression. "He is my vessel. I will use him as I see fit." The words came out with a ominous tone.

I wasn't surprised in the slightest. The constant battle with him was wearing, driving me insane.

I took hold of his cloak, simultaneously pulling him closer and pressing myself into him. A newfound confidence – mostly due to the ever-growing frustration that built inside – caused me to disregard any hesitation that I felt toward demanding his full attention. Though liberating, it was an equally dangerous move – one that he did not seem entirely pleased with. A flicker of a scowl appeared, eyes narrowed in his own sort of perturbed disgruntlement; I had poked the bear with a sharp stick. Oh, how I was treading on thin ground with him. I knew that though I was relatively safe in his company, I was pushing my limits.

I stood on my toes until we were close to the same level, eyes locked onto his. "You still have a heart, I know it's still in there. Why else would you go to all this trouble for me?" Despite my attempt to seem indifferent to his intimidating demeanor, my tone retained its fearful quality.

He raised a hand, causing me to flinch and shut my eyes as I awaited punishment. And though I could not see, I knew that this pleased him. A smile spread across his features, dark and gratified that he was able to make me squirm. He still claimed ownership over my submission. The charred hand latched onto the back of my head, causing my eyes to open. Fingers dug into my hair, pulling the strands as he squeezed. I grunted in disagreement, the pain making my eyes water, but still I would not submit. He wanted me to beg and I would not give him the satisfaction.

This wasn't enough for him. His other hand dug into my low back. He leaned in close, inches separated us. I did not squirm. Eyes daring him to do more, I gave a defiant smile. The gleam in his eyes intensified as he eyed me hungrily – much as I imagined that he looked at one of his test subjects before the initial procedure. I could feel his breath on my skin as it came in heavy waves. My heart raced as I anticipated his next move with an unnervingly giddy excitement deep inside my chest. C'mon, I silently provoked, What more can you do to me?

However, I did not anticipate what he did next.

It jarred me, bewilderment causing the realization of his actions to be delayed. His lips roughly met mine; calloused, scarred flesh pressed against the comparatively tender skin of my own pair. My eyes widened in confusion and utter surprise. I froze, terrified in his grip; every nerve was on fire with his touch. He pulled away, a satisfied smirk slowly returning to his features.

But I refused to allow him to win; if this was how he wanted to play it, then I wouldn't go down without a fight. I pulled the edges of his hood, tugging him back towards me. Once again, our lips united as I pressed mine to his. His hand released itself from my hair and traveled until it reached in between my shoulder blades. Fingernails dug into my skin, causing me to let out a tiny whimper. And oh, how this pleased him.

He tasted of blood. His tongue demanded entrance; I, in turn, allowed him exploration while our battle continued. Teeth sank into my lip, causing me to let out a small cry. My hands clawed at his skin, no longer concerned with fragility of its never-healing scabs. A growl came from deep in his throat. I traversed the contours of his body until landing on the fabric of his cloak, causing the hood to fall from over his head. As he realized what had happened, he shoved me away. I was sent stumbling, gripping the wall to keep me upright.

What I exposed caused me to gasp. The upper right portion of his skull was missing, brain tissue exposed through the clear plastic covering that served as protection. Within the plastic were a series of round holes, from which I gathered was how he conducted experiments upon himself with STEM. Crude stitching surrounded the makeshift skull, red and infected in places. Despite my occupation as a nurse, I found myself becoming squeamish at the sight. The full extent of his facial scars were now visible as they extended from the lower portion of his face toward various places along his bald head. He raised the hood, once again concealing the mutilations.

All memory of the previous few seconds vanished as I watched him with concern and fright. "Ru-Ruben." I took a step towards him, only to have him turn his back to me.

He peered over his shoulder, stoic and without a single trace of the dark satisfaction he displayed before. "Always remember that you are _mine_," he said. With this, the darkness of his demeanor intensified; commanding. "I will return. You will be here when I get back."

I jutted a hand out and clung to his own, stopping him from leaving. A mixture of confusion and annoyance was painted across his features before shifting toward a softer expression at my silent plea to stay. As we stood, arms outstretched as I gripped onto his hand, silver eyes commanded me to release him. With hesitation, I let him go.

"And you'd better return," I replied.

He turned and walked away, glitching out of sight. The hand that held his placed delicate fingers upon my lips as I recalled the feeling of his rough kiss. It certainly wasn't pleasant; he took advantage of me during a moment of weakness and staked his claim upon me. But at the same time, it wasn't quite unpleasant…If anything, it assured me that he was still human and shared the same urges that most face. It was an almost refreshing change from the sadistic nature he normally possessed.

But his goal had been clear; it was not merely lustful intentions, but devious as well. He knew my weaknesses; my pain. He wanted to make my skin crawl by showing me that he could overpower me in every possible way. It wasn't about nostalgia or loneliness, it was control. He did care for me, that much he made clear, but now that he had me he would break me until I was molded into the little girl who depended on him once again.

The places where he hurt me would turn into dark bruises which I would wear like marks of his ownership, I was surprised that he hadn't done more to permanently brand me. I unconsciously ran my fingers over the sores. Even if he couldn't feel much I had done some damage to him, causing him to bleed in areas. That was all I could do. And though he had caused me harm, he showed restraint. I had not seen the full extent of his anger yet.

There was one thing he had succeeded in, though…He made me weak. He made me want him despite all that he had put me through. It made me sick with anger; it made me crazy.

But I wanted him nonetheless.

* * *

**A/N: Well, that was unexpected. Ruvik, it's kinda soon for that...Also, this is my first kissing scene I've ever done (and I promise this is the raunchiest this story or any other story of mine will ever get.) How did I do? I'd appreciate the feedback. (I may have to run away from the internet for a few days though because of the anxiety; I have an anxiety disorder and I freak out over nothing.)**

**Thank you to those that followed, favorited, and reviewed!**

**And to dampen the mood a little,...the town that I live in had a horrible tornado blow right through it on Sunday night, taking out a third of the city. (I actually wrote this chapter during the storm to help calm my nerves.) My family and I made it out fine, but so many others weren't as lucky. Many lost their homes (some of our friends did) and some lost their lives. It's been all hands on deck. Disaster relief people are everywhere and, supposedly, CNN and MSNBC have been reporting it. Really, what I'm trying to get at is that they need prayer - if any of y'all feel led to do it. It would really be appreciated. **

**Pearl: Thank you so much! :) I'm so relieved to hear that you think that they were realistic, that was something that I was extremely worried about! It's hard to keep Ruvik in character when he's not murderous, XD. Also, I drove such a wedge between them that I was concerned I would never get it turned the way I wanted it to in a believable way. And you are so sweet! :D Oh my gosh! Your reviews just make my day! :) I'm glad to hear that you like my story that much!**

**And finally, the lyrics are from 'Thread' by Flyleaf.**


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